


When A Tornado Meets a Volcano

by Jenthetrulysly



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Angst, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-12
Updated: 2011-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-17 23:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 104,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenthetrulysly/pseuds/Jenthetrulysly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Universe. In a world where there is no black and white, but only a myriad of shades of grey, Steve's a serial killer purging the streets of Oahu of crime, Danny's the veteran detective enlisted to catch him, and everyone is swept along for the crazy whirlwind that is about to unfold and wreak havoc on everyone around them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I've never been to the Palace before...

There was every promise that this was going to be the start of a shitty week. Rachel, in the latest bout of matrimonial disharmony, had challenged Danny's visitation rights with Grace, and he had missed his precious weekend with Grace just because she had a fucked up notion of trying to make his life hell. All he had left was the cherished phone calls once a day, after school, where he could hear his little girl's voice, a reminder of the opportunity he had lost. The fucking joint where he got his malasadas had run out of flour and the coffee had been lukewarm at best. And to top it off, he may be in trouble. Fuck it.

Danny ran a hand through his hair, thinking of all of the possible reasons why the Governor of Hawaii would want him to meet her in her office. His memory supplied an unhelpful blank. He had always been a good cop, making sure that the perps were read their Miranda rights and that police procedure was followed to make absolutely sure that the perp, or actually, the perp's slimy, sneaky lawyer would not be able to get the perp off on a mere technicality. He did all of his paperwork like a good boy and did not take unnecessary leave if he didn't have to-

In autopilot mode, he parked the Camaro in a spot just outside the Iolani Palace and willed himself to stop this line of thinking. If he was going to get fired he had the backing of the police unions and could probably sue for unfair dismissal-

Stop it, Danny.

It was pretty fucking embarrassing to admit to himself that before this, he had never been to the Iolani Palace before. Sure, he had been into governmental buildings and courthouses in Newark before and could probably navigate them blindfolded due to the sheer number of times he was there in a day, let alone a week, he had never set foot inside the Palace, mostly due to the fact that he had just barely settled down in this tropical hellhole, where it seemed like it was perpetually summer and the soft cotton of his shirt clung to his skin and he stuck out like a sore thumb because everyone was walking around in Aloha shirts and board shorts with the air of being freshly laid, while here Danny was just a ball of pent up frustration walking around in a collared long sleeve shirt, silk tie and the works.

The officers at the HPD had just stared at him when he first transferred from Newark, and given him unending hell over his Jersey roots and his lack of a healthy golden tan (Some people just don't like to be walking talking ticking melanoma time bombs _thank you_ very much he had told them among unrelenting gales of laughter). Still, there was just something very soothing about his dress routine. It was perhaps the only regular, constant thing in his life at the moment, considering that he had left everything behind to be with his saving grace, his daughter. He had hopped a plane from cozy New Jersey where he knew the streets like the back of his hand and had even entertained hopes of one day making Captain or heck, Police Commissioner of the Newark Police Department. Abandoned everything that had made him and defined him since birth to fly to this pineapple infested hellhole.

But he didn't mind, so long as Grace was still with him.

He stepped inside the Palace, asked the girl at the help/information desk where the governor's office is, and proceeded to follow her instructions to end up on the very top level of the palace where after two security checkpoints (you can never be too sure the guard had told him) and plunked himself on the leather sofa in the governor's room. In about two minutes, a stately man walked out from the governor's office, clearly pissed. 'You can go in now, Mr Williams.' Danny stood up, brushed the lint of his trousers and step forward with what he hoped was his best neutral expression. The governor, a woman going on fifty sat behind that vast mahogany desk in a dark grey suit. For all that the heavy makeup could do, it could not conceal the very dark circles under her eyes nor the frown lines deeply set around her mouth. Danny had a feeling that those only started appearing after the last few months.

'You wanted to see me, Governor.' She waved a hand. Danny sat down.

They sat in a terse silence for a few minutes, the sunlight streaming in through the open window and the rustling of the palm tree leaves providing the only sound in the room. It seemed like both sides were steeling their thoughts. However, for Danny, at this stage he was completely bewildered. If she was going to fire him, then why go through all of this crap? He thought of all the reasons why it would be a bad idea to fire him, and was about to go on a verbal tear with the classic Williams' family indignation and passion turned on full blast.

He sucked a deep breath- Governor Jameson steepled her fingers together.

'I'm sure you're wondering why you're here Detective Williams.'

Danny nodded.

She took a file out of a drawer and handed it to him. Tersely, he took it from her and started thumbing through the contents. Crime scene pictures, coroner reports and other CSI sort of stuff looked back at him.

'There have been a spate of killings all over Oahu the past few months. Clean, professional killings. The HPD is no more able to solve them then the Administration is to stopping global warming.'

A beat passed.

'I know, I've seen them enough in the Star Bulletin. So you suspect the work of a serial killer, because the slugs here all came from the same gun,' Danny reasons.

'It's getting out of control. The media is playing this to the full extent and its affecting tourist numbers because people fear being killed. Its not good for the economy and small business.'

Danny sighed.

Of course he'd read about the fucker. The guy (was the killer even a guy?) selected criminals who had escaped the legal justice system on a mere technicality, and hunted them down and slaughtered them. If it was up to Danny, the guy should be rewarded with a bloody Medal of Honour, but that was probably pushing it. Danny (and alot of the other officers in the HPD) had joked about how they'd take they guy in with open arms, and maybe ask him out for a beer. The guy was making their jobs a hell of a lot easier, and contrary to popular belief, the killer was making the islands a safer place. A shame the media had to play their cards this way. Fuck the argument that it was morally wrong to kill someone, they should be left to the law to be dealt with. But the law can't exactly deal with them to the delight of the victims' families. The law was not going to be able to bring back loved ones from the dead, short of evoking black magic. Danny had seen enough to know that the system was not perfect, but it was trying its damn hardest. He sighed.

'In light of this, governor, what do you want me to do about it?' He crossed his arms.

'Detective Williams, I have confidence that you will be able to catch this serial killer, and stop this wave of violence that is sweeping the Island-'

-This is getting somewhere interesting, Danny thought

-'as such, I am prepared to arm you with immunity and the means to do whatever it takes,' she waved her hand in the air 'to get the job done.'

'But why me,' he shrugged, 'why not any other two bit cop on Hawaii? What do I have that no one else on this island does?'

She closed her eyes wearily, 'no one has been able to make any headway into this case. I think the best thing to do is start afresh, with a special task force specifically for this,' she paused, just for a bit to gather he thoughts and give him a tired smile, 'we need a breath of fresh air into this investigation, and I figured with 72 homicide cases under your belt, you'd be the way to go.'

Danny stewed over this for all of five seconds, perhaps his dreams weren't too far fetched, and he may get a stab at immortality after all. He may as well go all in at this stage.

'Okay governor, what's in it for _me_?'


	2. Down the Rabbit Hole...

So after using his superb hostage negotiation skills to secure definite visitation rights to put an end to Rachel’s personal vendetta against him, Danny sighed, an inexplicably happy sound before sinking bonelessly into the sofa bed as he smiled a smile full of pure self-congratulatory glee.

He had only met with the assembled Five-O team that very same afternoon, his only gripe being why on earth they couldn’t have picked a better name. 

‘I’m glad you realise that there are many ways to fight a war’ the governor had told him cryptically, ‘very glad.’ 

There was just something very wrong with naming a real life State Police Unit after a fictitious one, let alone one from a _television show_.  Sure, he did have grudging respect for the Alex O’Loughlin character, but that could be more of the fact that he was responding to the gorgeous golden tanned body, the whole ‘sex on legs thing’ that people keep going on and on and on about. 

Which brought him abruptly before the huge can of metaphorical worms just itching for release under the high-pressure can. If Danny was completely and utterly honest with himself, he knew deep down, the very reason why his marriage to Rachel didn’t work out. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Grace, but Grace wasn’t enough. The fucking thought was disturbing enough to make him take another swill of beer. 

Whilst at the beginning it had been like two hearts colliding doing some sort of super-hyper-nuclear fusion, towards the end, it had fizzled. It had been more like the tail end of a firework, nothing but smoke and some spluttering embers.  Danny noted how this had occurred when Rachel had abandoned her tomboyish nature, letting her hair grow long and embracing the idea of the sophisticated, upwardly mobile woman. 

 _When she started looking more like a fucking woman, rather than a man._   


True to his vows, Danny had never cheated on her. But did cheating have to be the physical manifestation of lust and hunger? Was the fact that the very last few times they had passionate and angry make-up sex, Danny’s thoughts had been far away from Rachel, away from her resentful expression and her frenzied breathing as she curled her claw like hands, like vines, around him as he drove her closer to the brink, yet he was nowhere near his own and through sheer concentration, and yes, if she turned her head to the side and grunted loudly enough he could get lost in his fantasy that she was the mysterious male stranger who had never failed to make him come.   

When the most gruesome case could no longer distract him, when his thoughts turned to the mysterious stranger more and more often and he found himself, hand against the wall with his hands wrapped around his cock which was wet and stick and wilting, the stench of sex in the air, when he recognised that this was more satisfying than sex with Rachel, when that day came, when in the deepest darkest part of the night he could no longer lie to himself, lie to Rachel, lie to every-fucking-body, he came out, and told her. 

Rachel was not as forgiving (hell, if someone had told him this, they’d be getting more than shot in the face, more like beaten to a bloody pulp) and, rather than ripping his balls off and tearing him a new asshole, her mouth in a thin line, her eyes suspiciously bright and _gosh_ were they tears? 

Danny was left to pick up the pieces as she uprooted the family, and threw it to the dogs. He couldn’t blame her; his hands were equally, if not more, dirty than hers. 

A particularly loud explosion from the television shook him out of this absolutely morose line of thinking, and his thoughts turned back to Five-O. He liked his team enough, they seemed the type you could depend on. Just three friendly people who were united to serve a common purpose. There was a guy named Chin and a rookie named Kono. They were cousins. 

Chin seemed to perpetuate an air of constant calm. You needed a guy like that, especially in operations were keeping the lid firmly clamped on the budding hysteria is of the utmost importance. Chin knew a ridiculous amount about technology and would probably be able to crack every file and unlock every digital kink to open a vast world of overflowing personal information with the touch of a finger. Danny noted that he should try and stay on Chin’s good side. 

For all the implicit threat than Chin represented, he was starkly contrasted by Kono, a rookie fresh out of Police Academy recruited especially because she had a first class honours degree in kicking ass. She seemed the type to relish physical danger and violence, verging on ultra violence. Danny imagined that to be handed a badge to pummel the shit out of people with nary a worry about personal recrimination was like a fucking wet dream for her. Hell, she wasn’t even a guy. 

Whilst she represented the physical threat of broken bones and internal bleeding, whilst Chin represented the softer, more refined art of threatening danger. Together they were rather formidable, but tame and rational. 

Whilst Danny sat there in his mangy, claustrophobic apartment on his old sofa bed which could possibly double as some sort of arcane torture device should any international terrorists (not that he was expecting to get up close and personal to one any time soon) join the show, his phone rang. Glancing at the clock, he picked it up after two rings.

‘Hey Monkey, how’re you doing? Enjoying the slumber party?’

‘I’m having the funnest time Daddy,’ she went on to tell him how Rachel had let her bring Mr Hoppy over and all the girls were delighted when he was able to jump around the garden and they were able to feed him carrot sticks and celery. If the squeals of delight and laughter floating through the phone were anything to go by, the girls were beside themselves having fun. 

‘Aw honey, I’m so happy to hear that, you better go back and join the party. Sounds like you’re missing out on soooo much there,’ if it was up to Danny, he would stay on the line forever, exponential phone bill notwithstanding. 

‘But Da-ddy, I like talking to you more, I wish you could be here too. It’d be more fun,’ a naughty giggle, ‘maybe you could sneak over, when Mom’s not here.’ 

Danny smiled, ‘maybe next time honey, next time.’

‘Promise Daddy? Do you promise? I love you Daddy, you’re the best.’

‘Goodnight sweetie. Danno loves you.’ 

As thoughts of Grace filled his mind, the gleeful smile, which had flagged a bit when his thoughts crept closer and closer to the proverbial can of worms, returned full blast, and he shifted on the couch to better watch the football game, and try and make a head start on the congealed, inedible TV dinner sitting in front of him.

*************

 Meanwhile on the other side of town, in an alley between two buildings, where the bright blue and red neon from the nightclubs didn’t quite reach, bathing everything in pitch black darkness. The rotting stench of garbage assaulted Steve’s senses, but it was nothing that he couldn’t, wouldn’t ignore. Each step forward, the crunching of gravel under his feet and the crinkle of old yellow newspaper with each step, a constant reminder that the job was getting closer and closer to completed.

The prey, a Samoan bulldozer more than a man, etched further and further away, the thin trail of blood the only indicator that Steve had stepped on his hand with a satisfying crunch before ripping the useless chunk of metal away from him, a nice deep purpling hand printed bruise around his throat, crushing the vocal chords, such that the best the Samoan could muster was a gurgle or a hiss.

‘Please…’ spit trailed out of his mouth, made light pink by his blood, ‘…I have two children. My baby girl, don’t do this to her.’ The man was shaking, tears and snot streaming down his face, down his chin, onto his chest.

 The soft click as the safety was turned off was obscured by the constant blaring of the techno song at the nearest club, whilst the sound of an old Mercury coupe backfiring hid the sound of the gunshot.

 

 


	3. When a Tornado Meets A Volcano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally called 'When Steve Met Danny' but I've decided to rename it, because I think 'When A Tornado Meets A Volcano' sounds better? Yes/No? Tell me in a comment.
> 
> Also note, this is where my brain went on a random stream of consciousness tangent, and I'm not even in Hawaii LOL.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy, and tell me what you think in a comment.

It was almost obscene the way the weekend was whittled away and Monday loomed with the ominous presence of a metaphorical dark storm cloud, not that you got much of those here in forever-sunny Hawaii. 

No, it was more like being ambushed by torrential downpour when you least suspected it. 

 _‘The fucking postcards lie, sunny my ass’_ Danny thought irritably as he was caught in a sudden rainstorm. Up until 5 seconds ago it had been picturesque beach going conditions right down to the tiny detail of the palm trees waving their leaves lazily in the humid morning air. 

Today had all the promise of being a scorcher, and Danny _hated_ scorchers, despite the rain. Damn it, this was not a sign of good things to come. He had come into the office, Windsor double knot and bag of malasadas and just set them down on his shiny new desk before Chin appeared in the doorway. 

‘Danny, HPD’s found another one,’ he whooshed out in a breath, ‘tiny alley between Club Envy and Pulse. Kono and I will meet you there in a few, got to get down to the forensic lab to see whether they’ve matched the bullet casing to the ones on file.’ 

‘Okay, where did you s-’ Chin was gone by that point, and fifteen minutes later, Danny was navigating the streets of downtown Honolulu like a real pro, complete with a GPS unit, which thankfully was able to recognize Pulse, which turned out to be somewhere in the heart of Chinatown. 

He had never been in Honolulu’s Chinatown before. Sure, like any other Chinatown in America, you had the obligatory Chinese restaurants with the sweet and sour pork and the Mongolian chicken, but there were pawnbroker shops with knick knack of various shapes and sizes display proudly behind heavily cracked panes of glass held together only by the sheer number of duct tape on them, and various Asian grocers, their herbs and vegetables fighting a loosing battle to stay fresh in the hot weather, wilting before it was even 9 o’clock in the morning. There was one lone gift and souvenir shop where an old lady sat behind a counter of what was probably fake jade and gold jewellery, oblivious to anything other than the Chinese TVB serial playing on her computer screen. 

But somehow, the place seemed to have a life of its own beyond that of the ‘Aloha’ hula girls and the endless beach culture fascination.  The place had an air of menacing danger, and a special sort of order that only came about when the Triad outfit was in town. Despite the façade of decency and respectability, Danny had a feeling that a lot of things, threats and danger and fear and death bubbled below the surface layer of normality. He sped past the shops and the Chinese film theatre, and with a swift flick of the steering wheel, found himself bounding down a much narrower street where the sun was eclipsed by the tall, looming buildings and neon lights squatted lazily in the windows, ready to be turned on when the nightlife came out to play. 

The GPS system began to beep nonstop. 

‘ _Well,’_ he thought, ‘ _time to get this show on the road…’_  

Danny pulled the Camaro behind a red Jeep, and was just in time to see a man dressed in a black short sleeve shirt and cargo pants clutching a red toolbox sprint into the alleyway. Danny’s police officer instincts kicked in. 

Caucasian male. Dark brown hair. Early to mid thirties. Tall. Muscular Build. About 6 ft 2. 

Danny stepped out of the car, making sure that he didn’t slam the car door too loudly, before pulling his gun out of its holster, and sliding the safety off. He ran to the brick wall just to left of the alleyway, pressing himself against the coolness of the brick, before slowly easing his way along the wall into the alley. 

It was small and cramped, where the stench of rotting garbage and abandonment clung to the air like a thick veil, and with every step stagnated water squished and squelched underneath his loafers. The ally was lined with overflowing rubbish bins and cardboard boxes lay strewn across the walkway. A floodlight overhead flickered on and off intermittently, and Danny wouldn’t have been surprised if he had blinked and found himself in a crime scene in New York City by mistake. 

But this was Hawaii, not New York. 

The rain continued to beat down relentlessly as the tall man (short brown hair, broad shoulders, tapered waistline) crouched at the dead end in the valley. Danny started forward towards the man, gun clutched tightly in right hand. 

‘Freeze! Detective Danny Williams, Five O. Turn around and hands up in the air! Now! Identify yourself!’ he cocked the gun straight at the man. 

Now, a lot if things happened in the space of five seconds. 

Before he knew it, Danny found himself being pressed against the grimy wall, crowded by the man, the arm holding his gun pinned by a strong, warm hand to the side. He moved his leg to try and kick his way out, but the man moved just that bit closer, using his hips to pin Danny down and restrict any hope of movement in Danny’s torso. 

Danny couldn’t help noticing that the man smelled like an interesting mixture of soap, old wood and something mildly citrusy.

Danny and the man regarded each other, pressed like this in a dingy alleyway somewhere in the middle of Chinatown, as the warmth from their bodies seeped into one another as the rain soaked through to their skin, their breathing rushed and ragged for the moment, the rain falling down their faces as they stared hard into each others’ eyes. The stranger had fixed his unwavering blue stare onto Danny, his face scrunched up in what could only be described as a feral look, like he was two seconds away from beating the shit out of Danny.

Danny followed the raindrops as they landed onto his face and fell, along the bridge of his nose, on his cheeks and downwards, getting lost in the stubble for a while, before dripping down from his chin. 

It was the most beautiful thing Danny had seen on the islands, unfortunately, now was not the time for such things. Or thoughts for that matter. He quashed the insane urge to cup the man’s face in his hand, to card his fingers through the cropped mop at the top, before uttering, albeit in a voice significantly higher in pitch than his normal speaking tone. 

It was just the adrenaline running through his veins caused by the man’s sudden attack. Yes, that was the reason why his heart still continued to race at 200 kilometres per hour inside his chest, the blood still rushing in his ears. 

‘Who are you? What are you, some sort of freaky Ninja?’ 

The grip on his armed hand relaxed, just a little bit. The corners of the man’s mouth lifted up in what could only be a tentative smile. 

‘I’m Dr Steve McGarrett,’ the man said in a soft voice, ‘former head of HPD Forensics, re-assigned to Five O as of this morning.’ 

Danny was still minutely aware of how close Steve was standing to him. Still too aware of the way their hips were pressed firmly into each other, close enough to kiss, acutely sensitive of the hand that was still clutched possessively around his wrist and how he felt way too hot. He hadn’t even felt this hot during that heat wave where it topped 100 degrees. 

Hell, even if he was standing next to a volcano is a fucking Eskimo jacket, he would still be relatively cooler than how he felt now. Steve let him go, stepped to the side, and watched as he put the safety back on the gun and tucked it back into the holster.  Danny rubbed at his right arm where he could still feel the ghost of Steve’s strong hand on his wrist. 

Fuck it.

‘You know, what ever happened to just saying ‘I am Steve McGarrett, forensics’ and flashing your badge? Why did you feel the fucking urge to slam and pin me against the wall?’ rage began to boil from nowhere, but it was welcome all the same to Danny, ‘haven’t you heard of proper police procedure?’ 

‘But I’m not a police officer, _Detective_ , I’m just your standard lab boy,’ and gave Danny a look that could only be described as a cheeky what-are-you-going-to-do-with-me? sort of look, his head tilted to the side quizzically, before continuing in the same soft voice as before, his eyes fixed intensely on Danny ‘but I’m happy to learn it, all the same.’ 

Danny responded by coming closer to Steve, finger jabbed squarely in the chest ‘I want you to-’ 

Unfortunately Danny never got to finish that sentiment as the siren of police cars could be heard in the distance, and within a beat, Chin and Kono came running down the alleyway. 

‘Steve, my man!’ Chin smile in greeting, before catching what Danny imagined to be his murderous expression ‘oh Danny, its only Steve, stop looking at him like you want to kill him.’ Chin brushed passed Danny and he could only watch as Chin and Steve did some sort of secret handshake thing. 

Danny spluttered, ‘we…I…he… _I_ kill him?!’ 

‘Relax brah,’ came Kono’s voice, ‘anyway,’ she looked straight ahead at Steve, ‘Hey. _You_ weren’t at your lab this morning? We wasted a good thirty minutes wondering where you were, before realizing that you would probably be here.’ 

Danny rolled his eyes. Apparently having a first class degree in kicking ass didn’t automatically make you super sleuth extraordinaire. As if catching the negative wavelengths against Kono, Chin fixed him with what could only be described as a cease-or-desist type of look. 

‘Right Dr McGarrett, what can you tell me about the victim?’ Danny asked, finally collecting enough calm and composure to put on an air of normalcy, notwithstanding the fact that his tie was askew and his cheeks were still hot. Even after all this time. Damn it. 

‘Well, my examination of the victim was disrupted abruptly and I haven’t gotten much out except the fact that he died from a slug to the gut,’ his blue eyes trailed up towards Danny’s face lazily, before a smug smirk stole over his features. 

‘Nothing’s stopping you now,’ Danny crossed his arms, hoping like hell that he was giving off the ‘I’m waiting’ vibe.

The rain began to pound down more mercilessly then before, making it so that if they wanted to talk, they either had to resort to crude hand signals or start shouting at each other. In the distance Chin and Kono stood huddled up under a large umbrella, watching as Steve said something and Danny started making really grandiose hand gestures complete with pin wheeling motions, hands up in the air and they could make out Steve’s voice, getting louder and louder as the rain continued to beat down on all of them.

‘You know, Kono.’ 

‘What, cuz?’

‘I think we can look forward to the start of a beautiful friendship.’

 __


	4. Bottles of Beer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry! Posted this chapter after proofreading it at 3 in the morning sans coffee, but it should be all better now.
> 
> Please read and review, it makes me happy, and gives me strength to keep going with this.
> 
> Enjoy!

The rain was beating down on them, soaking into the back of their shirts. Even in the light of day, Danny could tell that the hopes of finding something, _anything_ that could identify their serial killer was close to zero. But still, that didn’t stop him from appreciating the view all the same.

Danny’s eyes has trailed away (more like he forced them to stop focusing on) from the way the rain caused the shirt Steve was wearing to cling, outlining the clean defined lines of his muscle. Instead, he fixed his eyes on the body in front of him.

It wasn’t pretty. The man, a big hulker of a guy, lay slumped against the wall, his unseeing eyes open, a bullet hole in the gut the only indication that there had been foul play, notwitdthstanding the fact that he was slumped on the ground in a dingy alleyway. Well, as far as Danny could see, anyway. In the bright light of day it was clear that the blood had managed to dry to a caky brown, and most of it had been washed away by the rain, pooling in murky brown puddles around the body. Yet it still wasn’t enough to erase what was obviously the dark tinge of crimson which stained the man’s shirt and clothes.

‘Present for you,’ Steve handed him the man’s wallet.

Danny flipped open the man’s wallet, the man’s name was Fetu Benga. He apparently was the owner of Pulse, and according to his drivers licence, was 43 years old and weighed 220 pounds.

‘Okay, we’ve got his name and his address,’ Danny said, ‘what can you tell me about cause of death Dr McGarrett?’

‘Please, call me Steve, Dr McGarrett is just too formal.’

‘So?’ Danny made rapid wheeling motions with his hand, hoping that he was prompting Steve to continue. Which he did.

Steve straightened, and turned around to look Danny in the eye, an eyebrow raised. ‘What do you want to know?’  

Danny let out an exasperated sigh, ‘what do you think I want to know about?’

Steve regarding him, just for a beat, ‘ _well_ , I thought perhaps you wanted to know what I know, and I know. A lot,’ a smug smirk caused the corners of his mouth to move up, just a little bit.

‘I want to know whether the Red Sox have any chance of winning the Championships’ Danny deadpanned. No! Tell me about the guy in front of us! Is there anything that can help us?’

Danny’s voice had gone up, just a little bit at the end there, and it was because he hadn’t had coffee yet that morning. Yeah, that was it. If he told himself that often enough, he could start to believe it, right?

‘Now _that_ I don’t know about,’ mirth twinkled in Steve’s eyes, ‘but about the man here? He was obviously killed by a bullet straight to the gut, and bled out,’ a wry smile, 'lucky that there'd been rain, otherwise we might've been wading around in calf deep pools of blood. You know, that would be enough to kill most people.'

It was with sheer willpower that Danny was able to avoid rolling his eyes. Of course, he was overpowered by an insane urge to smack Steve in the head, and it had nothing to do with anger. It was more like a deep acknowledgement of _irritation_ , that this guy refused to cooperate and would try and make Danny’s life as miserable as possible, but strangely, he was not angry, well, he was more irritated, and it would only take a little bit more just to get him across the line to anger, but he was enjoying himself as well. He felt at ease and comfortable around Steve, and he had just met the insufferable guy.

‘Okay Dr Obvious, what else can you tell me?’

‘I can tell you alot of things,’ a flash of teeth, a sickeningly sweet smile replaced it soon after.

‘About this?’

‘About this.’

‘Do you want to share with the class?’

‘But there isn’t a class here,’ Steve continued, without missing a beat, ‘just you and me.’

‘You’re forgetting that guy there,’ Danny hitched a finger at the dead body, ‘and you’re forgetting Chin and Kono.’ Sure enough, it was only then that he realised that they were standing further away towards the front of the alley way, huddled underneath the protection of a large black umbrella. The HPD had also arrived on the scene, and uniformed police officers had bugun to seal off the alleyway using that yellow ‘Crime Scene: Do Not Enter’ tape.   

And, he was feeling a strange mixture of heat and cold. Sure, he felt that his skin was cold and clammy, obviously from the rain but heat also seemed to be radiating out as well, at the same time. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the familiar red and blue flashing lights of the ambulance. The white uniformed paramedics were approaching now, a white stretcher getting socaked through with rain, making ripples in the puddles of dirty water and trash strewn across the alleyway.

Danny noted how the Steve’s demeanor changed then, and became all cool, calm and collected, the lilt of amusement in his voice disappearing ‘get this body down to the morgue as soon as possible’ he barked across to the paramedics. The insufferable twinkle in his eyes had gone, to be replaced with a fierce, intense look.  

The change was enough to make Danny’s breath catch, and he had no fucking idea why. They watched as the paramedics placed the corpse in the body bag, zipped it up and left with nary a stray word. Actually, they almost ran out of the alley way.

‘Shit,’ Kono called out, practically screaming, ‘you guys better get out of the rain, you’ll catch a cold. C’mon, hurry up!’

Danny and Steve looked at each other, and Danny had zero inclination to return to the office, to get a change of dry clothes and fix his bedraggled hair. He knew he must look ridiculous, drowned rat was never his preferred look.

But _Steve_ , he was something else. Even standing there dripping wet, clutching that old red toolbox, wiping the beads of water our from his fringe in what was obviously a losing battle, he looked like, there was no other word for it, and Danny’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, licking his lips:

Absolutely like a fucking _wet dream_.

But this was another can of worms, for another place, another time, another can of beer. Steve regarded him, through those ridiculously long eyelashes of his, that amused expression back on his face, somehow making him look more unguarded, more _human_.

They stared at each other for what was probably way too long to be considered professional, and Danny could feel his cheeks grow hot again (damn it).

Steve broke the silence first ‘as much as I like the present view,’ there is was, that goddamn saucy _lilt_ again, ‘we really don’t want to get sick. I don’t want to spend time in bed because I’m _sick-_ ’

‘You could’ve brought an umbrella,’ Danny raced, and it got a bit hard to understand him, towards the end as he spoke faster and faster, his pitch and volume rising, ‘why, sure if it suddenly started raining on the way here, I could understand not bringing an umbrella, but it was fucking pouring this morning, and my sympathy does not extend to those foolish idiots who prefer to charge in, guns ablazing with nary a though to the what ifs that may arise, because that way ahead lies madness. It is avoidable and stupid and-’

‘You sound like you really know what you’re talking about there, you sound like you could write a book on it.’

‘Fucking hell, I could,’ but there was no anger behind his words, not really.

‘Ladies,’ Chin was approaching them, umbrella clutched in hand, ‘time to go, would want to miss your own debutante ball now, would you?’

Steve ‘s brow furrowed to give a truly pained expression, gave Chin a face that looked like he had an aneurysm. Aneurysm face, Danny noted, not knowing how or why that thought just crossed his mind.

 _Aneurysm face_.

‘I know, but chivalry doesn’t permit me to’ Steve made a please-after-you-gesture at Danny, ‘after you, _mademoiselle_.’

That was it, the straw that broke the camel’s back, and as he walked passed Steve, he punched him in the face. No one called Danny Williams a girl and got away with it. Period.

‘Son of a bitch,’ Steve rubbed his jaw, but then a devious, truly mischievous smile lit his features.

‘Just so you know, you punch like a _girl._ ’

Rubbing his sore knuckles, Danny regarded him with what could only be described as a long-suffering expression, despite the fact that he’s only Steve for what, fifteen minutes at tops? Yet it felt like much, much longer than that.

‘Fuck you.’

‘Is that a challenge?’

Chin had given up, and they could just make out his silhouette getting into a police car at the front.

They started walking back to the car.  Danny felt an interesting mix of conflicted desires to punch Steve in the face yet he wanted to run a hand through the rough stubble on Steve’s jaw. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him.

‘Are you this insufferable to work with? Do you go out of your way to make the working day nearly impossible to get through due to frustration, to make people want to punch you in the face every time they see you?’

‘I’ve never had any complaints at all filed against my person. Besides, you’re just cranky ‘cause you haven’t had any coffee yet.’

Danny sneezed. True, he hadn’t had any coffee, and that meant that his brain was only functioning at about 30% optimal capacity. By now he absolutely felt chilled to the bone and if he was not careful, he’s end up sick. Not good.

‘Hurry up, I’m cold.’

‘Where did you park your car?’

‘It’s at the front.’

‘Just out there?’

‘Just out there, what is this, an interrogation?’ a note of annoyance, strong and clear crept into that one, ‘just shut up and hurry up. Put those long legs to good use. Some of us are cold.’

‘Demands, demands.’

‘Aren’t you even _cold_?’

‘Nope.’

‘I’m cold, hurry up,’ Danny repeated.

‘Your wish is my command, my fair Danno.’

Danny halted midstep. _Danno?_

Danny didn’t even question or raised his eyebrows when Steve just walked to the Camaro, pluncked the red toolbox into the book and plucked the keys from Danny’s hand and stepped into the driver’s seat.

‘Hold up,’ spoke Danny, ‘that is _my_ car, and because it is my car, I get to drive.’

‘Shot gun,’ Steve called out lazily as he swung the door open for Danny to get in. Right, what were they, twelve?

Danny could tell that there was no way that he was going to win this one, and that this would be the first of an endless line of arguments over a myriad of things, some important, some not. Unless Danny wanted to start a fist fight with Steve, not that he was unable, he had won his fair share of bar room brawls and could kick ass when the time demanded it. But he was too cold and too tired and just couldn’t be bothered. Sensing victory, Steve gave him a triumphant smile, it caused Danny’s hackles to raise adding another new source of annoyance.  

‘Unless, you want me to file a theft charge against you, get out of the driver’s seat.’

‘There’s no theft if you consent to it.’

Danny sneezed, yet again, fuck he was cold.

‘Just shut up and drive.’

Steve chuckled, the sound low and melodic, full of warmth and mirth as well. Steve started the engine, and before long they were cruising along River.

‘You could take off your shirt,’ Steve mentioned after a few beats of silence,’ like it was perfectly normal for a guy to take of his shirt in the present company of another guy in situations such as these, ‘you’ll feel less cold.’   

There was stone cold dead silence except for the faint hum of the Camaro.

‘I’ll keep my shirt on, thanks, you focus on driving,’ Danny clutched at the side of the car when Steve took a right hook, tyres screeching, horns ablazing from the back, ‘can you slow down. You’re driving like a madman.’

‘You said you were _cold,_ I’m just doing as you say,’ Steve looked at him with smugness, the jerk, but something warm flashed in his eyes. Danny felt any irritation and annoyance drain out of him, ‘you don’t want to catch a cold now, do you?’

Irritation flared again inside Danny. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stem the migraine that loomed on the horizon, not sure whether this was a Steve-centric headache or impending sickness headache. Either way, he could tell that this was going to be a log day, the pull your teeth out painful sort.

‘Don’t you ever shut up?’

‘You talk more than I do,’ Steve pointed out, ‘besides, it’s only natural that partners care for each other, get each other’s backs, right?’

Steve was like a wind-up toy gone berserk, where nothing short of repeatedly smashing it with a large, blunt instrument would make him stop.

‘Watch the road!’ Danny hollered, as the Camaro veered along the Lilo Highway towards the Iolani Palace.

Danny sighed noisily, the headache, more like migraine at this stage, was definitely a ‘nice to meet you’ present from Steve. If he was lucky, a few malasadas and some strong hot coffee, and maybe some Advil would go a long way for him.

Before long, with nothing but the smooth hum from the Camaro, Danny found his eyes fluttering, drifting closed as the tiredness and energy seeped out of him, but before his brain went offline, he caught the intense interest in Steve’s eyes and the warm chuckle that resonated way too loudly in the silence of the car.

Cataloguing it way in his brain for yet another bottle of beer, Danny closed his eyes, and sleep overwhelmed him.  

 


	5. Game, Set, Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people, thank you for your kind words, and please keep them coming! I should be able to get the next chapter posted to you sometime next week, as the weekend brings with it the joy of...paid employment LOL.
> 
> Enjoy!

5 malasadas, 2 cups of strong coffee from the nice new coffee maker requisitioned just yesterday (coffee is a must have, hands down) and countless sneezing fits later found Danny slumped in his chair behind his desk, the heater on full blast to compensate for the fact that he felt really, really cold. Since there was some sort of central air conditioning unit for all the offices, it meant that everyone was enjoying the nice 100 degree fahrenheit warmth that Danny had kindly bestowed upon them, namely, had shoved down their throats. His head was killing him, the only part of his body that felt hot, that was supposed to, _thank you very much._ It felt like there were tiny pins pricking the back of his eyeballs, and the stuffy feeling that comes before a sniffle became a full avalanche of snot.

And he had no change of fresh dry clothes in the office, was meant to bring them in, stash them somewhere, but had not gotten the chance. The clothes still freshly laundered and folded, sitting atop a pile of twisted blankets and other personal effects strewn across his tiny apartment. He was very close to taking off his shirt, tie and trousers to try and at least air them out to dry, just a little bit but what if the governor decided to drop in at that very moment to demand a status report, what if Chin came in to provide detail about a break in this case (the odds of which happening at this stage are slim to none, but Danny was willing to hope anyway) or, what if Steve came in and saw him, like this?

Oh shit, not good.

Danny would have to be completely blind to the way that he and Steve hit it off like a clockwork, the way it felt so natural to talk to the guy as if Danny had known him for a long, long time, not the space of a morning. Danny normally was very reserved when it came to meeting new people, all the years on the Force not exactly arming him with a sense of distrust, he wasn’t that cynical yet, not quite, but it was rather more like a wariness of people, a careful regard of the people around him. He wouldn’t have called it an invisible wall of ice around himself, but the more he thought about it, how many friends had he made since he came to the Island? How long had it been since he talked to his brother? Or parents back in Jersey? He should probably enquire about his Dad, the man did have a stroke all those years ago for goodness sakes...

It then hit him like a freight train that save for Grace, he was completely and utterly alone. But with Steve, he found himself feeling, well, not quite as alone as before.

There was knock on the door, and Danny had a few moments to rapidly arrange paperwork around him to make it look like he had been working. Before clearing his throat and announcing, in a somewhat feeble voice, ‘come in.’

Chin appeared in the doorway for the second time today, the top button on his shirt free and a shiny sheen to his face. He looked distinctly bothered and irritated, this was a first.

‘Danny, its 100 degrees in here,’ he stated in an attempt at his must-be-calm voice, ‘I’m gonna call the maintenance people in, tell them to fix this.’

‘Its not broken, I _put_ it on 100 degrees,’ Danny sniffled, ‘some of us are cold in here.’

Chin gave him could only be described as a what-the-fuck-is-this crazy-shit look, before continuing in a forced level voice, ‘well, its too hot to work in the office to work so-’

Danny interrupted him with a waggling finger, ‘do not tell me that. You Hawaiians live in tropical conditions anyway, in fact, you live near a fucking volcano, now how about that? Its constantly hot its constantly sticky and humid and wet, so what difference is a little bit more heat for you?’

‘I’m Korean, by the way.’

‘I would never have guessed, because Chin Ho sounds quite Chinese to me.’

‘Good to see you’re still with us, boss’ Chin smiled,’had to make sure. Let me get down to business,’ only at that point in time did Danny note the thick manilla file tucked securely under Chin’s arm.

Great, a new form of torture for the day. Danny rated listening to a complete briefing about as enjoyable as watching paint dry. And where there was sickness involved, the fun factor got amplified by one fucking thousand.

‘ The man’s name was not Fetu Benga, but was Adnoatina Boateng. They, more like Steve, had grabbed a copy of the man’s fingerprints and was able to find a match in the central FBI database.’

‘FBI?’

‘Yeah, this is serious shit,’ Chin shook his head, ‘this guy was on their hot list because there were rumours that he was a fence for kids, like, he’d get money from the parents back in Samoa and the rest of the Pacific Islands and bring the kid over here, and then tell the kid that the parents had not paid and that he owned them until the debt was paid off, with their bodies. Or where the kid in question could’ve gotten a high price, he would resort to any means to get them.’ A grim smile appeared.

‘Kidnapping, assault, child endangerment, the list will go on’ Danny steepled his hands together, ‘anything else?’

‘Oh yes. Get this. The shit only hit the fan when he saw a haole girl who was on holiday with her parents in the Ivory Coast, and kidnapped her. Her body turned up in Hawaii three weeks later in the very same alleyway that he died, sexually assaulted, strangled to death. Her dad was a high powered business man with heavy ties to the government and threatened to initiate a mass inquiry into the child slave business in Hawaii. Not the type of thing you want tourists to see.’

‘Oh my fucking God.’Danny counted his blessings then and there, that he had been able to protect Grace, and could continue to protect her, for the longest time. He made it first priority to call Grace as soon as her classes finished.

‘That’s pretty much the salient facts, Danny. I’m gonna get out of here before I literally melt,’ Chin fanned his hand for dramatic effect, ‘but that’s the complete list of stuff, the case against Boateng. Steve should be in in a few, he’ll give you the rest. Happy reading.’

For the next few moments, Danny sat in the silence, with nothing but the insistent _pitter patter_ of rain against the windows, perusing the file.

Boateng was a first rate fucking psycho. The dossier was chock-a-block full of evidence against him, evidence of child selling, being the leader of a ring of child smuggling to get child prostitutes into the state. Danny threw the file down in disgust.

If the club he owned really was just nothing more than a brothel where the merchandise was children, both girls and boys, why had nothing been done to stop him? Where were the police and the authorities, by this stage, with this much evidence against him, why was he still allowed to walk the street, like a deadly wolf around a flock of yound Merino lambs?

Danny flipped a few pages and found himself facing the transcripts of all the times that Boateng had appeared before the court in criminal matters, and the fucking reason why – the evidence was all circumstancial and the children witnesses under protective custody had recanted their statements either at or before the trial, only to disappear in a haze of mystery, just a quickly as they had come before the court.

Danny got up, and looked out the window. The weather was perfectly foul today, rainy and humid. He watched as cars roared past along the circuit outside the Palace, as their tracks sprayed dirty water onto the pavement as they looked for a place to park. It had been raining constantly and the streets were flooded from what Danny could see, the water level being so high that if a tiny child, like a baby were lying underneath all that, would anyone be able to see it?

More importantly, would anyone notice it and _care?_

Danny settled back into the chair, a fresh new mood of doom and gloom hung around him like a thinck velvet curtain, and had taken to staring at the pictures of the children, tracing his finger along their innocent faces, along the trails of blood and dirt and whatever else (Danny refused to tink about it) matted into their face and hair. He had just stumbled across a picture of a young girl no older than Grace when there was yet another knocking at the door, and Steve came in. The smell of something hot and comforting hit his nose like a freight train, and he found his stomach rumbling traitorously, damn it.

‘Just returning the favour, Danno,’ he placed two small packages and yet another file onto Danny’s desk, before settling down in the chair opposite Danny.

Danny gave him a puzzled expression, ‘okay, where did this ‘Danno’ thing come from? Have you considered that maybe I don’t want to be called Danno, but that I prefer to be called Danny? Or Williams? Or Detective for that matter?’

‘It’s cute, I like it,’ Steve leaned in, his hands clasped at the front, as if in prayer, ‘and I think you like it too.’

Damn the Williams family genes, Danny found himself cursing. Sure, they could invent a fucking lie that would pull the wool over the President’s head rather effectively when the situation warranted it, yet they were genetically incapable of a little white lie. Fuck his life.

Clearing his throat audibly, Danny eyed the packages with suspicion, ‘there are no bombs in here?’ he poked a package just in case, and the thickness of layers of material poked back.

‘Would I tell you if there were?’ the playful tinge had just crept back into Steve’s voice.

‘Would the security have let you through otherwise?’

‘Of course, I’m staff. If I can bring sharp pointy things into an office, what’s stopping me from bringing in a bomb?’

‘You could probably wire one, should the occasion warrant it.’

‘Point, Danno.’

‘More like game set fucking match.’

‘I didn’t know we were in a match Danno.’

Danny sneezed, ‘so what’s in here?’

Steve’s eyes twinkled, ‘why don’t you open them out and see?’

‘I know one of them’s food.’

‘Good work, _Detective._ ’

‘Shut up.’

Danny ripped the thin white paper of the packages, feeling a little kid at Christmas time though he had no idea why, and found himself face to face with a fresh change of clothes and some very hot chicken soup. The file contained medical evidence and Steve’s findings of course, Danny didn’t need to be a detective to know that.

‘Thanks,’ Danny mumbled, ‘er, it was very thoughtful of you.’

‘You’re very welcome,’ again with the soft smile that Danny was beginning to get quite used to, and like, very much, ‘but why are there two bowls? And where are the malasadas?’

‘You’ve already had five today, Junk food. Is. Bad,’ and there it was, that saucy lilt again that never failed to start Danny’s heart racing, ‘besides, I’m joining you for lunch.’

‘Did you even consider asking me first, what is wrong with you? People do not just barge in with bowls of soup into other people’s offices and then demand lunch with them. What if I was to meet the governor, what would you do then?’

A small pained expression flitted across Steve’s face, and Danny felt his chest tighten.

 _Fuck Williams, watch what comes out of your mouth_ , his Captain back at Newark had said one day, ‘ _be sure that it will come back to bite you in the ass_ ’  

A few beats of silence passed.

‘Do you _have_ a lunch meeting with the governor?’Steve was avoiding his eyes.

The annoyance that had been building up dissipated at the utterly defeated tone in Steve’s voice, and Danny found himself wishing that he would never, ever hear it again, for as long as he and Steve could still look at each other, were in each other’s lives.

‘Sorry Steve,’ Danny heard himself saying, and watched as Steve looked up, and they met each others eyes, ‘um, right. No. I’m free for lunch,’ and he felt his cheeks grow hot again, what was he twelve? ‘I’m still good for it if you are.’

Steve regarded him carefully, ‘okay Danno,’ and Danny could feel the air in the room, which had been thick and heavy with resentment and tensio all morning, dissipate to be replaced with a feeling of lightness.

That damn smile again, ‘but Danno, you better change out of those clothes, you might get _sick-_ ’

‘I’m already sick-’

‘Well change anyway, wearing those when you are sick won’t help things,’ Steve replied breezily, cutting across all of Danny’s interjections. A look of triumphant victory spilled over onto Steve’s features, and Danny wondered whether on not he had bee played like a bloody harp, but strangely, he found that he didn’t mind, when normally, he would be all self-righteous indignation mode right now. But he was not.

This _was_ a first.

Legs feeling like jelly, he took the clothes to his small private bathroom hidden behind the solid wooden door next to that damn fern and bookcase behind his desk, ‘if I catch you peeking in, I will rip your dick off.’

Steve leaned back, and did he just bat his eyelashes? ‘Not sure you’d be ready for that, babe.’

Sneezing, and spluttering, Danny seized what was left of his pride (gosh how red his face must be) and slid into the bathroom, turning the lock with a soft click.

He didn’t even need to be in the room, but he could imagine hearing Steve’s amused laughter through the door.

Game, set, fucking match – to _Steve_.


	6. Superman

_Fuck my life_ , the first thought that crossed Danny’s mind when there was the security of a wooden door between them, ‘rip his dick off?’ There were a million other more bitingly witty things that Danny could have said, but in that moment his mind drew a blank and he instead blurted out what was the most mundane thing he had said since, what, high school? Danny had always been proud of his masterful control of the English language, and this was clearly not a display of it.

Danny continued to scold himself for walking so easily into that one. He went about the business of getting dressed and washing his face, splashing cold water onto his heated cheeks. It seemed like whenever Steve was around, the rational detached part of his brain went somewhere to hide, leaving behind only the bumbling of idiots and this weird propensity to flush scarlet at inappropriate times. The last time that this had happened, Danny ended up with a gold band on his finger, cake and all.

 _Shit, shit, shit._

‘Danny Williams, control yourself’ he said aloud, to himself, catching sight of his weary expression in the mirror, ‘you are not going down that road again,’ he braced his hands on the counter, the cool of the cheap plastic flimsy sliding under the wet nature of his hands, ‘never, again.’

Danny felt a lot more comfortable when he stepped out of the small private bathroom, not quite bright eyed and bushy tailed, thanks to the massive headache that loomed behind his eyeballs and the river of snot that threatened to drown everything in a deluge. Safely armed with enough tissues to stopper a hole in a sinking submarine, Danny took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he pushed open the door, preparing to face whatever he had to in this next moment with Steve.

The sight that greeted him was rather – normal.

 _What the fuck is wrong with you Williams?_ He chided himself, for the second time that morning, what was he expecting? Well, whatever it was, he felt rather let down, and he had no idea why. Perhaps if he bashed his head against the wall enough, some sort of crazy sense might take over.

But Steve was here and here was all Danny wanted him to be. The completely unquestioned way that thought popped into his mind was yet another can of worms for another bottle of beer. At this rate, Danny might become a full blown alcoholic before he has a chance to make the peace with himself about this thing with Steve.

Steve had leaned back on his chair, looking at Danny the same way a curator at a museum might when they were appreciating a fine piece of artwork. Steve’s eyes were fixed on the vee shape of his collared shirt. Danny sighed.

Danny spent most his life nagging, most probably he will die nagging. _At Steve,_ his mind supplied unhelpfully, fucking _cheerfully_.

He promptly told it to shut the fuck up.  

‘Steven, what is wrong with you?’

Steve merely raised an eyebrow, ‘what have I done this time?’

‘You broke into my house,’ Danny accused, but there was no real heat to it, ‘you took some of my clothes, I would say that that amounts to breaking and entering,’ he closed the gap between them, his eyes looking down on Steve’s way too relaxed form. Even though he was still fully clothed, Danny was willing to testify under oath that it was obscene, the way he slouched, long arms dangling off the arms of the chair, legs kicked out before him, parted slightly in a lewdly suggestive way, head tilted to one side-

 _Stop it, Danny._ The air had just become too thin and hot, yet again, for Danny.

‘I got some clothes for you, that’s all,’ was the reply, ‘do you have any evidence that I didn’t just _buy_ them for you?’ The slouch lessened a little as Steve sat up, all the better to respond to the unworded challenge.

‘This shirt’ Danny pointed out, ‘is not new. See here?’ he shoved his sleeved left arm in front of Steve, to where the seam had split, just a little ‘that was when Gracie pulled way too hard down on it in her eager zeal to get to the aquarium. Plus, this shirt has my cologne all over it, new shirts don’t, they have the new shirt starched smell.’

‘Gracie,’ Steve repeated, ‘your daughter, right?’ he pointed to a framed picture that sat on Danny’s desk.

‘Yeah, but back to this. You did not buy this shirt, on the fact that it is old and worn, ergo, you broke into my house.’

‘I procured clothes for you, that’s all’ Steve shrugged his shoulders, ‘I wouldn’t have minded letting you roam bare-chested all over the office, but I don’t think Kono and Chin are quite ready for that.’

Danny had no comeback to that, so he merely groused, ‘you also forgot the fucking tie.’

Steve’s face scrunched up, like the concept of wearing ties was somehow analogous to having shit shoved under your nose, ‘tie?’

‘You know, those things that often hang around men’s throats when they choose to wear a shirt,’ Danny replied sarcastically, ‘God knows there is no way you could have missed the tie rack next to the bed.’

‘It’s Hawaii, when was the last time you saw someone wearing a freaking tie? Its normally way too hot to be in anything other than swimming trunks.’

‘It’s the principle of the matter, I do not question why you wear those stupid cargo pants, seeing as the last time they were in fashion was 1999. Hence, do not question my propensity to wear a tie.’

‘You look like some mainlander with the tie. You stand out like a sore thumb. And fuck you,’ Steve replied, at this stage, there was no real anger, just irritation oozing out of every syllable pronounced between them.

‘He can be taught, ladies and gentlemen’ Danny drolled sarcastically, ‘what if I want to look like a mainlander?’

‘Well then, ditch the tie. Its not a good look on you.’

‘No. And fuck you.’

‘Like I said, its too hot for the whole shirt and tie thing.’

‘No. It isn’t.’

‘Yes it is.’

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

‘No.’

‘How long are we going to keep at this?’ It was a simple question enough, yet the moment when it left his mouth, Danny sucked in a breath in expectation, of what, he had no idea.Many beats of silence passed. The blood rushing sounded way too loud in Danny’s ears. Danny, sensing that this was a conversation for another time, broke the silence.

‘Hey I’m hungry. Anytime within the next century,’ Danny tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk one, two three times.

Steve seized the lifeline gratefully, and it irked Danny how he couldn’t tell if he was glad or horribly disappointed, Steve cleared his throat.

Danny could tell Steve had chosen these words carefully, ‘uh. You ready for lunch? I’ve still got to tell you what I’ve found.’

Danny crossed his arms, ‘the soup’s gone cold. Cold soup is an abomination that should not have to be pressed on long suffering sick mortals. Or recalcitrant partners for that matter,’ he could feel the corners of his mouth twitch up. It was getting to be a habit, this, because short of Grace, nothing had given him this much amusement in a very long time.

‘Well,’ Steve matched his smile, ‘we can remedy that,’ ten minutes later, they had migrated to the newly requisitioned lounge (if you’re going to question people, let them feel at ease Danny had told the governor when she asked) bowls of soup in hand. The soup helped to settle the butterflies churning in his stomach, settling it, and a sense of relief washed over Danny.

They sat like this, in the 100-degree heat of the air conditioning; feet rested on the glass of the coffee table, next to each other, not quite meeting each other eyes but not quite avoiding them either, savouring the hot soup. It was much easier to talk like this, when they didn’t have to look into each others’ eyes, when it would be all too easy to see the turbulent churning of feelings evident.

‘I don’t understand how you can sit there so comfortably in this heating eating hot soup,’ Danny shook his head, ‘it baffles me.’

‘You’re the detective, figure it out.’

This conversation was already working on too many levels for Danny.

‘You’re a detective…that must be the nth time you’ve said that to me today.’

‘Good to know your skills are still sharp.’

‘Aren’t you at least dying? Any normal person would be sweating like a pig right about now.’

‘Hmm. Yeah. Chin was well on his way to being _poached_ when I ran into him outside your office.’

‘Heat does that to people. _Normal_ people, which must mean that you are a freak.’

‘Daniel,’ Steve mock-scolded, ‘haven’t your parents told you that its not nice to call someone a freak? You’ve hurt my feelings,’ there it was, the mock-pout.

‘If you don’t get that look off your face I will not be responsible for my actions,’ Danny sipped another spoonful of soup, ‘I didn’t know that robots had feelings.’

Aneurysm face. ‘I’m not a robot, where the freaking hell did that come from?’

‘Language-’

‘Pot. Kettle. You swear like a stevedore anyway.’

‘Not round Gracie I don’t.’

‘I’m amazed that they let that filthy mouth of yours around her,’ Steve turned around to look at him, ‘you’re a corrupting influence.’

‘Oh, I’m _corrupting,_ am I?’ Danny says, turning to meet Steve’s eyes, eyebrow raised.

‘Yeah, you bad boy with your ties and all’ Steve replied, grinning, ‘anyway, enlighten me. A good detective always backs his statements with fact.’

Danny blew his nose, the lamest excuse for time if he ever gave one, as he composed his thoughts, ‘you can crowd an armed man in five seconds flat against a hard wall, you break and enter into people’s houses to get them clothes so they won’t die of pneumonia, you can stand 100 degree heat and hot soup.’

‘Right, I was expecting something more along the lines of super human strength and fearlessness regarding dark alleyways and breaking the law.’

Danny grinned, ‘it sounds way better when I say it.’

‘Does not.’

‘Does too. You make it sound like you’re Superman.’

‘What if I am?’ Steve placed his bowl on the table.

‘You’re missing the cape.’

‘And I haven’t found my Louis Lane yet, too true Danno.’

‘What have I told you about that?’ Danny harrumped.

Steve chuckled, a low and melodious sound.

‘Besides, you haven’t even gone through your findings with me.’

‘I’m sure you can read the file.’

‘I’m sure I’d like your expert analysis.’

‘I’m an expert now, am I?’

‘Shut up,’ the ever-present pink tinge on Danny’s cheeks just got a bit deeper. It was the cold. That was it, ‘and its time to hit the road, ‘cause Jameson will be here in, shit, ten minutes.’

Steve chuckled.

Danny crossed his arms, ‘some people actually have to work.’

Holding his hands up in mock-surrender, Steve was laughing all the way to the door, leaving Danny wondering, for the first time in what was to be many times that day, _what have I gotten myself into?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you take the chance to post a comment for me, or even just a kudos, I will love you forever.
> 
> Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into? It seems like the fic will be longer than I envisaged, because the rabid plot bunny that hath bit me refuses to let go, and has even sunken its teeth deeper into my skin.


	7. Warm Fingers & Cold Pizza

The meeting with the governor ended up taking up most of the afternoon, and was a new, higher order form of torture. Danny was just glad that it was over, and he glad to be away from her questioning, heck, more like _interrogation_. All he could do was thank God that he had the mind to cursorily glance over Steve’s findings to look like he at least knew something about this bloody mess.

It had started right enough, when the clock struck 2pm (gosh he’d whittled away 2 hours and however so minutes with Steve, yet why didn’t it feel like it?) on the dot the Governor walked into his office again, a scrum of newspaper tucked securely in her arm.

‘I’m sure you’ve seen this morning’s paper,’ she said, in lieu of greeting. She all but threw the papers onto Danny’s desk, her mouth twisted into a thin grimace.

‘And good afternoon to you too, Governor,’ before he could get another word out, she had sat down on the chair and peered at him expectantly. He reached out to grab the first one, and found himself looking down at Boateng’s corpse, the bile automatically rose in his throat when the unsolicited images of all those vulnerable children flashed in his mind’s eye again.

He scanned the paper. It was just the usual sensationalist drivel, alleging that nothing had been done to stop the spate of killings and how tourist traffic had been literally annihilated.

As if guessing where he was up to in the paper, Jameson interrupted, ‘that’s just one of the examples of stories that have appeared since this morning. Local news networks and even some cable news programs have been broadcasting about this.’

‘Can’t we get an injunction to stop these stories from being aired?’

‘It’s a tricky situation Danny. We stop them, we get alleged of a cover-up. I’m here, on the off chance, that maybe you’ve had a break.’

‘C’mon governor, I’ve only been on this case for 1 and a bit days. Have some faith in my ability,’ he tried to keep the minor note of irritation out of his voice.

God damn it, why is it that everyone, the Governor, the media, the public, _everyone_ had such high expectations about results? Danny wasn’t a robot, and it was only natural that he was going to need some time to get settled down and iron out the hard facts of the case, before the breakthrough even came through. What is with this unrealistic expectation for quick results?

‘What have you found out so far?’

‘Nothing that we already don’t know. We have positively identified it as the work of the serial killer as the bullet the-‘ Danny was about to say victim, but the word caught in his throat, ‘-deceased was matched to the ones stored on the data base.’

‘What type of bullet was it?’

‘Special hand made type, a mixture of lead and iron, custom ratio. Never seen anything like it before.’

‘Can you identify where each of the components came from, maybe find out who the suppliers were?’

Danny shrugged, ‘anyone can buy lead and iron, you just have to walk into any hardware shop to do so.’

‘What type of gun was used?’

‘.38 caliber Smith and Wesson revolver. Practically two thirds of the guns sold in Oahu alone are this type.’

She continued rapidly firing questions at him, some relevant, some completely off-the-wall that had him raising his eyebrows and through sheer concentration he was able to avoid rolling his eyes at her.

The clock had just touched past 5.30pm, and she clicked her teeth, relenting on her interrogation with one last ‘have you made anymore discoveries based on the findings from Boateng’s death. Anything new?’

‘Before his death Boateng was strangled, his vocal cords completely crushed,’ he replied nonchalantly, ‘he would not have been able to say a single word through that. All the bones in his right had had been crushed. Steve was able to identify trace metal elements on his fingers which suggests that he held a gun, and the killer used some sort of brute force to disarm him.’

Jameson steepled her fingers together, propped them underneath her chin and regarded Danny for a few moments. She then turned to look out the window, where the sudden rainstorm had cleared and soft warm sunlight was beginning to peak behind the gray clouds. She let out a pent up breath, and looked at him straight in the eyes. 

He could tell that she was not prepared to hear this type of thing, that for her, her duties so far as governor of the 50th state had been mostly celebratory and symbolic in nature. The more Danny thought about it, she had probably come from a blue blood background, where the machinations of ordinary life were something of a caricature for her, something completely foreign but for the sake of re-election she had to pretend to understand. She was not prepared for the rolled up sleeves get your hands kind of dirty work that came with the job. 

Instead, she was completely _inexperienced_ with these matters. 

A few moments of silence passed. 

‘It’s not a break per say,’ Danny admitted, gritting his teeth, ‘but its deviation from the killer’s standard MO, and that is good, because there is a higher chance of finding something that will help us.’ Somewhere along his words, she had taken to staring resolutely out of that damn window again, rather like a petulant child. 

He sighed, and pushed his chair closer to the desk, closer to her, and clasped her hands in his. Her hands were too soft, the type of softness that came with lack of hard work and way too much leisure time on her hands. He looked down to note that twice weekly manicures must have be _de riguer_ , and this irritated him, but in the interest of keeping his job, he forced the irritation and annoyance down and continued in a level voice. 

‘Look at me,’ dark brown eyes met blue ones. 

He rubbed soft circles into the area under her thumb, ten years of marriage survival instincts kicking in, ‘you have to trust us. We’re doing the best we can, I’ve got Steve and the other lab boys combing over the crime scene with a fine tooth comb, these things take time,’ his voice, which had gotten steadily softer and he ploughed on, returned to its normal timbre, ‘the rest of the team are working flat out, trying to find any lead, any connection to the killer. We’re doing our best,’ he repeated, to drive the point home. 

Brown eyes bore into blue, searching for something that Danny wasn’t sure was there. But whatever there was, she seemed satisfied with it, and a small smile broke out, making her look at least ten years younger. 

‘Thank you, I needed that,’ my gosh, was she _batting_ her eyelashes at him? Oh shit. ‘But now what do I tell the press? I have a press conference lined up tomorrow morning and we’ve to seem like we’re doing something, going somewhere.’ 

‘Hmm. We’ll play it cool,’ with as much care as a SWAT officer pulling a detonator from a box of dynamite he gently extracted his fingers from hers, and with some trepidation he did notice that her fingers didn’t want to let go, oh double shit. 

‘I think it would be good if the public could see you,’ she spoke slowly, beaming at him, ‘let them see just what a man is heading the task force.’ 

Danny shook his head, ‘there are some battles for me to fight, and this is not one of them,’ Danny senses were telling him to steer clear of this, because the last thing he needed was for the boss to have a crush on him, it would make getting through the day nigh on fucking impossible. Yet he also was not able to say no, because Jameson seemed like the person who could hold onto a grudge for a very long time, or at least when she found a fucking reason to get you fired. 

Shit, life had dealt him so pretty crappy cards. Praying that she got the message (gosh where had his eloquence gone?) a few beats of silence passed, before he added turning on the schmooze factor, ‘besides, I wouldn’t want to steal the limelight from our governor.’ Cheeky grin. 

She actually laughed at him, looking at him with something like fondness bordering on admiration, her eyes glinting with mirth and Danny was glad that he had ten years of marriage experience to help him navigate the vast stretches of water, big as the ocean, that were the thoughts and feelings of the women around him. 

A few beats of silence passed them. Her hands felt too warm for him, contrasted by the slight chill of his. Danny suddenly could feel the ghost of Steve’s grip that morning, which had felt more _right_ than anything else, despite the threatening tones in which Steve clutched Danny’s hand. Not this, this was too soft and malleable, and Danny didn’t want soft, he wanted hard and masculine and fierce blue eyes and that quirky mouth which could make his breath hitch and keep on hitching and his face flush scarl- 

‘It’s a shame you’re married, Danny,’ she stated matter-of-factly, after what felt like an eternity. 

Danny plastered on a look of morose regret, which seemed fake, even to him. 

‘Unless I’m wrong, so are you.’ 

‘Hmm. Yeah, I guess so,’ she bought it, and relief stole over him. 

Brown finally pulled away from blue, and she exited Danny’s office rather quickly, fuck-me-dead pumps notwithstanding, and he let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. 

*** 

‘Danno, you shouldn’t drive while talking to me’ Grace’s voice sounded anxious, even worried on the other side, ‘I don’t want anything bad to happen to my Danno.’ She was truly her mother’s daughter. 

‘Don’t worry honey, I’m being very careful, and its so good to hear your voice again, I can’t wait for the weekend, we’ll do whatever you want.’ 

A giggle. ‘I’m looking forward to it too, I’ll introduce you to Dolphin Trainer Barbie, she really wants to meet you.’ 

‘I want to meet her too, I miss you honey.’ 

‘I miss you too Dad,’ he could hear Rachel saying something in the background, even with the distance of a phone call, he could tell Rachel was still annoyed that Danny had killed her personal vendetta against him, ‘I love you Daddy.’ 

‘Daddy loves you. But Danno loves you more,’ he was laughing by this stage.

Grace giggled some more, and hung up.  

Danny killed the Camaro’s engine as he took a moment to reflect on his meeting with Jameson. He had been able to get out of that one through sheer luck and schmooze, but like most things in his life, he wouldn’t rely on it. His train of thought was promptly derailed when he saw that the lights to his place were turned on, bathing the surrounding ferns and whatever else in warm orangey light and he could see a Steve sized outline in the window. 

Anger caused his hair to bristle further, and who the fuck does this guy think he is, barging into his apartment whenever he pretty well damn pleases and then some. Danny wanted blood, or at lease the satisfaction of personally raking the sod’s stupid ass over some fucking hot coals. 

With the pizza balance precariously in one hand, he stomped up the front and found the door unlocked. He slammed it open with a loud bang causing Steve to stop what he was doing, dead in his tracks. 

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?!’ Danny bellowed, ‘why are you here? Wait I don’t want to know why you’re here. Just get out! OUT!’ He jabbed a finger at the door impatiently. Fuck, Danny was looking forward to a nice dinner of pizza and maybe a beer but there was flying fuck’s chance that that was going to happen now. The Steve-centric headache, which over the course of the afternoon had diminished to a dull throb, had return full force, guns blazing. Such was his life, and Danny pinched the bridge of his nose for the nth time that day. 

Smooth as the water that rolls off a duck’s back, Steve shrugged, ‘Chin asked me to drop off some files on this serial killer,’ he hiked a finger at Danny’s small rickety table, where a sheaf of paper crammed into a manila folder sat, ‘you weren’t home, so I thought I’d leave it there for you.’ 

‘And what about the beers?’ Danny wildly gestured to the six-pack next to the manila folder. 

‘Well, I thought that I might impose upon you some more, and join you for a drink while I give you my opinion.’ 

‘Your expert opinion if I recall correctly.’ 

A flash of white teeth, ‘quite.’ 

They regarded each other, surrounded by the mish-mash of remnants from Danny’s former life in Newark and new stuff that he had collected so far during his stay in Hawaii, Danny’s heavy breaths like claps of thunder in the silence of the dingy apartment. 

Danny threw his hands up in the air. 

‘Is that in admiration or supplication?’

‘More like irritation,’ Danny gritted his teeth for the second time that day, ‘who do you think you are? Barging into people’s apartments with manila folders and beer very well as you please?’ 

‘I told you that I would give you my opinion on this case,’ now it was Steve’s turn to shrug, ‘I always honour my word,’ and there it was, that soft shy smile even though Danny could tell that Steve was in no way shy. 

 _That smile will be the death of me_ , Danny thought. Every-fucking-time. The anger drained out of him rather startlingly, as if he hadn’t really been that mad at Steve, but had to muster it up, all the same. If Danny were honest with himself, he was actually glad that Steve was here, with him, in this tiny cramped mess of an apartment, with Danny. Glad that he was going to keep to his word and give Danny what he’d asked for, that every afternoon. Every-fucking-thing. 

A few moments later, they were seated opposite each other, Danny on the unrolled sofa bed and Steve in that old chair, the box of pizza spread out between them. Danny’s heart was racing at this stage, but thankfully he had been able to resist the propensity to flush scarlet today (that was amazing considering that it wouldn’t take much for Steve to stand up and push Danny back onto the bed and _ravage_ him) despite the hot, steamy possibilities that were playing themselves in front of Danny’s eyes. 

A few beats of silence passed. 

‘So lay it on me, McDuff.’ 

Steve choked on his pizza, ‘what?’ 

‘Your expert opinion.’ 

Steve pounded his chest to get the rest of the offending pizza down with a hand, and Danny’s fingers itched to rub up and down on Steve’s back, the impulse bright and strong. And irresistible, as seconds later found Danny standing by Steve’s side, rubbing up and down the tanned column, the black cotton of Steve’s shirt smooth and comforting under his hand. Danny raised an eyebrow. 

Danny could swear, under oath, that Steve moved into the strong strokes up and down his back, and it took a lot of willpower to remove his hand from Steve’s back. He went to settle back down onto the bed and braced a hand on his bum knee, waiting. 

‘Well,’ Steve piped up, rather wryly ‘the killer really knows what he’s doing. The bullets are untraceable ‘cause they’re home made, the gun is untraceable because it’s so common, and we haven’t been able to get a decent fingerprint because he wore gloves.’ 

Danny took a swig of beer, ‘you know what the shape of his hand looks like, maybe you could get a cast of it.’

Steve shook his head, ‘we do have a cast of the shape of his hand, but hands are hard because most guys about the same height have roughly the same-sized hands,’ he held up his own. 

‘So, you’re telling me that other than one lousy handprint you haven’t found anything.’ 

‘Yes, because you forget, wearing gloves, especially thick ones, will enlarge the hands quite a bit, and obscure the true size,’ he raised his beer in a silent toast, before taking a swig himself. 

Danny sighed. They ate the pizza in comfortable silence, before settling back and starting the not-quite-looking-at-each other conversation again. 

Steve broke the comfortable silence first, ‘so, how are you finding island living?’ 

‘I hate it.’ 

‘Why, you don’t like the beach?’ 

‘I’m a man of cities,’ Danny replied, ‘I like the sprawling nature of urban living, not this post-dated hippie surfer stuff.’ 

Steve snorted, ‘you only say that, cause you’ve probably never been surfing.’ 

‘Surfing, the singlehandedly most stupid recreational past time since shooting people.’ 

‘Wuss. And surfing is not stupid.’ 

‘Am not a wuss. And it is stupid. What kind of sane person willingly pits themselves against a large wall of water that can crush them?’ 

‘You are too. And the operative word in your sentence is ‘can’ not ‘will.’’ 

Now it was Danny’s turn to snort, ‘you keep telling yourself that, just remember I’ll be there to laught at your stupid face when it gets faceplanted in the sand, bottom up in the air,’ he waggled his eyebrows, ‘wouldn’t that make a welcoming sight?’ 

‘Never, in my however ever so many years of surfing,’ Steve continued breezily, ‘have I faceplanted. Faceplanting is something that _you’re_ more likely to do.’

‘Hey, I can boot you out,’ Danny warned, ‘don’t push me.' 

‘You won’t,’ Steve replied, with steely iron-clad conviction, ‘you’re having way too much fun. I dare you to disagree.’

At that point, they both reached out for the last piece of pizza, and their hands brushed, fingers warm and comforting against each other, lingering for just the tiniest bit than what was considered normal, before each man jerked away.

‘You take it, you bought the pizza.’

‘Nah, I’m not hungry anymore.’

‘Why would you grab it if you’re not hungry?’

‘Call it an automatic reflex.’

‘Forget about locking up your daughters, ladies and gentlemen’ Steve was laughing by now, ‘keep the pizza away from this monster.’

Danny laughed, the whole thing was rather ridiculous, ‘shut up, I am not a monster, not anymore than you are.’

With the lone piece of pizza tucked securely in a Tupperware container, Steve bid Danny adieu, still chuckling, and stepped out into the darkness of the night. The sun had gone down fully, leaving everything in inky darkness that was occasionally broken by the faint yellow glow from the streetlights. Steve roared the truck’s engine to life and sped off down the street, taking a left at the corner.

Since it was a Monday evening, the clubs and bars were relatively deserted, except for the diehard alcoholics, complete with slurring and drink sloshing. He continued to drive, further and further away from the city until he was surrounded by pitch black. He was in sugar cane farming territory; the sharp leaves waving lazily in a terrible imitation of the palm tree as the wind whooshed past them.

There were no streetlights here and the tyres of the truck crunched the gravel and dirt underfoot loudly, yet not loud enough to cause alarm. He pulled into a small inlet in the sugar cane field, and shut off the engine and the lights. There was just enough light from the tiny sliver of moon to allow Steve to see what he was doing as he flipped open the lid of the red toolbox beside him, and removed the CSI type contents from it. He pulled open the false floor of the toolbox and smiled as the metal of the .38 Smith and Wesson winked merrily at him. He pulled on the leather gloves before carefully taking the gun out of its hidey-hole, and slid out of the truck, pushing the door closed with a soft thud. 

Five minutes later, the gun still smoking back in its hidey-hole, he crept back into the truck and sped off, and it was not until there were streetlights along the road did he turn his headlights on. The leather gloves sat in a plastic bag, to be incinerated as soon as he reached his house. He pulled open the Tupperware container, and proceeded to eat the last slice of pizza as it brought fond memories of Danny with all his flustering to the fore of Steve’s mind, and he couldn’t help but smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you take the chance to post a comment for me, or even just a kudos, I will love you forever.


	8. Of Heroes and Villains

_The silken satin sheets felt cool to the touch, helping to keep the raging fever that sunk down to his very bones from driving Danny into delirium. A warm sticky breeze wafted through the open window causing the curtains to flutter merrily. Beads of sweat broke out over his forehead, and somewhere in Danny’s mind, it eventually clicked that those harsh sounds were his owned fevered breaths. Panting. And it was the pained sort of breath one might exhale as a sign of suffering. Instead, it was the sound of fevered breathing tinged with excitement and arousal._

Wanting. Lusting.

 _Steve, peering at Danny through his long, long eyelashes, eyes looking more like sky blue in the light of day as it seeped past the closed curtains into the messy apartment, painting everything in a warm, comforting hue, lay on top of Danny, his weight settling warm and heavy, but not quite to the point of suffocation. His warmth seeped onto Danny’s already too hot skin, their mingled breathing sounding obscenely loud in this small cramped space._

 _Longing mouths crushed together. There would be time, time for endless gentle nips and affectionate pecks but now was not the time. No fucking way. Danny shut his eyes, all the better to savour the sensual overload before him. This kiss was hot and raw and wet as they fought for dominance. Danny could feel the tip of Steve’s nose brush against his cheek as he tried to swallow Danny’s mouth in his as Danny went to bite down rather hard on the swell of the man’s bottom lip, which elicited a loud groan. His hands reached up and curled themselves around the man’s back, running themselves up and down the exposed expanse of slick, smooth skin, as Steve had braced his hands, which felt hot enough to burn Danny’s skin off wherever they touched, on Danny’s chest._

 _When physics demanded that they part for air, they were both gasping for air. Danny reopened his eyes, and saw the full force of desire in Steve’s eyes, in which the pupils had literally blown out, nothing but black. His eyes took in the tiny creases at the corner of Steve’s mouth and that delicious bottom lip, which looked swollen and Danny could see the ghost of his bite on the sweet shell. It was probably the hottest thing Danny had seen, and the fact that it was he who had staked his claim on that bottom lip caused his desire to increase just that bit more, making his cock twitch and jump with arousal._

 _They kissed again, this time with Steve staking_ his _claim over Danny’s mouth working his tongue around every surface inside Danny’s mouth, running his tongue over Danny’s, taking the time to trace the outline of every fucking tooth before licking the soft outline of his lips, Steve’s laughter close and possessive reverberating against Danny’s spine-_

The alarm blared, and Danny snapped back to reality, which greeted him kindly with the sight of tented boxer shorts, the thin blanket having fallen to the ground during the course of the night. Fuck, Danny hadn’t been this needy and wanting since what, his virginal days? He sat up in his bed, turned off the alarm clock and without thinking, reached into his boxers with his right hand to grasp at his cock and give it a squeeze, swiping his thumb over the crown where pre-come made it wet. With a few rough tugs, he spent himself within the confines of his boxers, his hand sticky and hot. Despite being physically satisfied (as he wiped his hand on a tissue from the box conveniently next to his bed and chucked it into the wastepaper bin) on a psychological and emotional level, he was still _starving_.

He stood up, grabbing the towel slung over the very seat Steve had sat in yesterday as he headed to the bathroom. He padded his way across the bedroom into the bathroom, and caught a glimpse of his haggard appearance in the mirror. He groaned, catching sight of the spectacular case of bed head which greeted him and in a physical attempt to regain control of the situation, ran a very badly shaking hand through his hair.

Fuck, what had he gotten himself into?

***

Danny spent the rest of the morning in his office finishing off the paperwork on the Boateng file. He was busy signing deportation papers to send these children back to their homes on the Pacific Islands in a pretty shitty mood after his conversation with Kono, which cast his mind back to brighter, youthful days, making him wonder what the fuck had happened in between to make him become the man that he is.

Kono had wandered into his office, and had sat down, placing the completed paperwork required to shut down Boateng’s Club. She sat in the chair opposite him, the very same chair that Jameson had sat in yesterday, fingers mashed together and an expression on her face that clearly told Danny something was bothering her. And that she was going to discuss it with him.

Feeling a bit like Prufrock, rolled trousers but with no sign of that fucking peach anywhere, he waited, as the seconds ticked by into minutes.

‘Danny,’ Kono had asked, just a hint of hesitation in her voice, ‘can’t the children stay here?’

He didn’t want to deal with this issue now but if he didn’t then there will be problems down the track, and questioning of his authority, which was a no no. He put down the pen and watched as the ink splattered across the tiny mechanical print of the deportation form. He met Kono’s gaze levelly refusing to back down.

‘Sure,’ he replied nonchalantly, ‘like I haven’t considered that.’

Her voice grew a bit heated by this stage, ‘look, why can’t we just let them into foster homes? Why do they have to go back to an environment where they’re not wanted in the first place?’

‘Sure, put these kids in the child welfare system,’ Danny steepled his hands together and tucked them under his chin, ‘why keep these children away from their true parents? Why place additional strain on the already ailing system, which is barely functioning as we speak.’

‘Its better than life in poverty.’ Ah, to be that young and naïve.

‘There are better uses for taxpayer funded money. Like how about helping the children who come from disadvantaged backgrounds get out of a life of crime instead? We should be implementing something along the lines Youth Off The Streets.’

Seconds of silence slowly ticked by.

‘We’re a rich country, Danny. There are plenty of foster parents out there willing to extend an open arm and love and cherish this precious gift that has been bestowed upon them,’ Kono was pleading by now.

‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but these children already have parents, and homes they can go to.’

‘How would you fucking know? Maybe the reason they came over here was to support their family, we are the land of great-fucking-opportunity after all,’ Danny was amazed at how easily the word ‘fuck’ appeared in a sentence when one was angry.

By this stage, Kono looked like she was five seconds flat away from hauling Danny over and kicking some sense into him by kicking his ass instead, but she merely crossed her arms, and turned away from Danny, muttering ‘I just can’t see why you won’t give them a fucking chance.’

‘Its not my decision to say, the law is the law, we have to send them home.’

‘Well, something should be done about it, this is completely wrong. These children should be allowed to stay.’

‘Well then, will you be willing to adopt one?’ Danny challenged.

‘Fuck you, you know there is no way that I can,’ Kono muttered, glaring at him.

‘Welcome to the world of double standards’ he replied, a soft smile appearing on his face, ‘glad to see you’re coming around.’ He picked up his pen again, and grabbed the next form.

Just as sure of himself that his name was Danny Williams, this would not be the last of it from Kono, who he knew would go off to Chin to try and formulate and present a convincing argument to try to get Danny to let the children from the whole Boateng fiasco stay behind. Part of him was resigned to having one day, either through word or by conduct, to break through Kono’s highly rigid and unrealistic notions of law and justice, like life, was not cleanly defined as being either black or white. Instead, Danny’s experience with the Force had told him it was more like a myriad of shades of grey.  

Danny was jaded enough to recognise that some problems were just incapable of being solved, no matter the amount of effort extended into doing so. The problem with the children was that under the control of the monster Boateng they had been forced to grow far too quickly, becoming twisted, damaged impressions of humans which may have the appearance of children, but were not. And Danny, whilst having respect that the system was faulty and so flawed with cracks and loopholes so big that a ship could sail through undetected, knows that there is not enough funding there, or that the foster carers would be in no way capable of coping with the demons that haunt these traumatised children 

Danny knew as a father, that the best thing to do was to let these children return to their parents, the people most capable of helping them; let them return to countries and landscapes familiar to them, old and known lovingly like the wrinkles on the back of their hands so that the memories of laughter and warm smiles and more relaxed times may remove some of the poisonous self-loathing that was created at the hands of Boateng.

As such, these children could not stay here, they had to go home.  

With a huff, she left his office, eyes focused ahead with the sort of steely-determination reserved for kamikaze missions and massive breakers. Danny had heard that she was a real pro-surfer, and wondered then, why the fuck was she here, when the chance of glory and recognition was just lying there?

***

Danny had just signed the last of the deportation forms and threw down the pen, waving his right hand around to restore blood flow to the appendage and stretched out his fingers, which had cramped together after five straight hours of writing. He had just put all the files into envelopes before placing these sealed envelopes onto a neatly stacked pile on the right hand side of his desk, sealed and ready for sending.

A knock on the door, and Steve peered in, cheeky smile lighting up his tanned face.

‘It’s two o’clock, want to join me for a late lunch?’

Ignoring the swell of butterflies which had arisen in his stomach, Danny replied monosyllabically, ‘sure.’ Danny prayed to a God that he didn’t believe in that he would be able to behave himself today, or at the most, avoid flushing scarlet as the memories of _that_ dream floated in his mind.

They went down to the cafeteria to get some grub, Danny settling for a gourmet sandwich thing ( _focaccia_ Steve had told him) with lots of bacon and cheese and a bottle of sparkling lemonade, whereas Steve elected to have a bottle of water with a tub of fresh garden salad and a piece of roast chicken, and a small bowl of pineapple for dessert. The weather was too nice outside, meaning not too hot or sticky such that their shirts would cling to their backs thanks to the cool breeze floating by, so they decided to go and sit under the bower of a tree, back resting on the rough grain of wood, feet stretch out lazily in front of them.

A peculiar desire to take of his shoes and socks and wiggle his feet in the grass stole over Danny, but he was able to resist it.

They were sitting close enough that their thighs were brushing against one another, but there was no compulsion to move away. They ate the first few bites in silence, eyes anywhere but each other, from the gaggle of tourists walking by snapping pictures to the rows of cars parked in the cramped spaces.

‘I actually wanted to let you know’ Steve said after swallowing a mouthful of chicken, ‘you better avoid Chin if possible, station on the coconut wireless says he wants to have a word with you,’ he turned to look at Danny with a slightly worried expression.  

Danny shrugged, ‘figures, and I’m not even the bad guy this time around.’

‘I’ve known that guy since high school days,’ Steve continued, ‘nothing has been able to break the air of Zen he has created, but what you must have said to Kono must have really hit a nerve with both of them.’

Danny sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. It did not escape his notice that Steve eye’s trailed his movements, following the arch of his arm as his hand carded through the windswept strands, pushing some out of his eyes. Steve’s eyes looked like sky blue in this light of day, oh fuck, as they regarded Danny.

 _Waiting._  

‘I just – every time I look at Kono, I see this innocence, this sense of naivety regarding the way the world works,’ he paused to take a sip of lemonade, to gather his thoughts, ‘and I have this fucking urge to squash it with my bare hands. Its completely irrational and I can’t explain it, I just…’ he placed the untouched sandwich thing down, and waved his hands in the air by way of explanation, hoping that he wasn’t a bad guy and stark raving mad. _Hoping that Steve understood him,_ because the idea that Steve didn’t understand was too fucking awful to contemplate.

Steve chuckled, ‘my, there is much more than a pretty face under there’ and he was positively beaming when he said, ‘it doesn’t make you evil Danno, it makes you human.’

‘What?’

‘I can guess what happened, you guys probably butted heads about how to handle the children from the Boateng case, and she’s pissed because she realises that you’re right and the world is a rather twisted place, and she wants to fight it, wants to prove that the world is still a good place. She wants to prove that you are wrong.’

‘Yeah, that’s pretty much it. And is there anyway you can make her out to be less, you know?’

‘What,’ Steve was enjoying this way too much. Danny rolled his eyes.

‘I’m not going to say it, you’d have to drag it out of me kicking and screaming’ Danny offered in way of reply.

‘Less of a _villain_ , did you mean?’

‘You said it, not me,’ Danny made a scene, hand coming up to block out the sun, squinting out into the surroundings searching for a hint of Kono coming up to them, complete with brass knuckles and all. Steve laughed, and Danny found himself feeling more at ease, more relaxed to the point that he started laughing too.

‘Danno, it is truly a wise man who is able to recognise that nothing is perfect, that there is no absolutes in this world, but,’ the playful glint in those eyes had been replaced by a sort of weariness, a fatigue which somehow Danny could feel right down to his very sinews, ‘it is a paradox in itself.’

‘I see Kono’s innocence, she’s nothing but a new rookie, and I see that blind faith in humanity and the staunch refusal to believe otherwise and it makes me wonder what the fuck has happened to me?’

‘You mean, when did you lose your faith? That’s a fair question enough, and you need to come to terms with it before you can move on.’

‘Move on, from what?’

Steve regarded Danny carefully, and in the bright light of the mid-afternoon, Danny could see every crease line and every furrow and shadow on his face, making him seem more gaunt, more worn, somehow. A feeling kicked out in Danny’s gut, a sort of recognition that he had met a somewhat kindred soul, someone who could understand him and his perfect nonsense, so that together, they may create the most beautiful disaster.

Steve took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, ‘ _Que sera sera_.’

‘What?’

‘ _Que sera sera_. Whatever will be, will be.’

‘The future’s not ours to see?’ Danny raised an eyebrow.

Steve smirked, ‘right. _Que sera sera_.’

‘Maybe to your addled brain it makes perfect sense,’ Danny made a conscious effort to dramatically roll his eyes, ‘but us mere mortals need some help.’

‘Insulting people when they’re trying to lend a helping hand is fucking rude,’ Steve butted it, the tacit _fuck you_ unsaid, but as clear as day in his eyes.

‘Well, its not everyday that clothes thieves buy you hot soup when you’re cold and break into your house with beer ask you to lunch with them and offer you life advice,’ Danny muttered.

Now it was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes, ‘now whose being obnoxious?’

‘I had a great venerable grand master who taught me the ropes’ Danny raised his lemonade in a toast to Steve, ‘a paragon of virtue and fucking wisdom.’

‘Shut up, all I’m trying to say is,’ Steve cleared his throat, and felt a shiver of glee as Danny leaned in closer to him, all the better to hear Steve’s words. The fact that Danny the non-stop motor mouth had shut up long enough to listen to Steve imbibed him with an utterly tender feeling, the soft and delicate nature of which left him with a strange desire to reach out with his hand and frame the stubbled jaw and rub his thumb against the scratchiness he knew would greet him-

‘What?’

‘You reach a point where you can no longer care.’

‘Right, cause my heart will explode,’ the way Danny was looking at him right now made _his_ heart want to explode, maybe of frustration, or something. Oh boy.

‘Fuck you, I’m being serious,’ Steve twisted his torso so he was facing Danny, half the man’s expression ensconced in shadow against the harsh sunlight of the afternoon, ‘there will come a point, where you will realise that life is not quite as clear cut as it seems, that there are no absolute truths in this world other than the fact that one day, you’re heart will stop breathing and your skin will grow cold, the day when your eyes will not open anymore.’

Danny harrumped, not quite meeting Steve’s penetrating stare.

‘I can see that you’ve reached that point, evidenced by the fact that you want to annihilate all good and sundry faith in humanity. You don’t want to let others share in the warmth and joy that you have denied yourself.’

‘I do not,’ Danny crossed his arms, bottom lip protruding in what to Steve was an adorable pout. The fact that Danny was not storming away, was not vehemently denying this or attempting to beat Steve to a bloody pulp against the ground buoyed Steve’s confidence.

Steve shrugged and took a swig of water to compose his thoughts, ‘sure, you may deny it all you want, but you know that that is true, deep in your heart. The fact that you haven’t run away screaming is truth enough.’

‘Gee, maybe I should promote you to Detective as well,’ Danny snarked, ‘you seem to be doing a better job at it.’

‘You need to come to terms with what you can do and what you expect yourself to do, you need to recognise that you are a normal human being, not a fucking demi-god-’

‘-so you suggest that I ignore everything, huh? Ignore the storm of shit in society? Ignore how we are fast becoming a society of moral degenerates with no self-respect or respect for others? How we are losing the qualities that separate us from basic mammals, our logic and higher order thinking drummed out of our heads, that we may become no better than savages,’ somewhere along this rant Danny had spun around facing Steve, clutching the man’s biceps between his hands and shaking him violently as his voice got louder and louder.

‘I never said that,’ Steve continued in a small, yet strong voice, ‘there is only so much you can do, before you begin to do more damage. Please stop Danny, because that way ahead lies _madness._ ’

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, because what Steve had said was close enough to be cutting bone and then some, because it forced Danny to recognise all the good that his fucking actions would do, would lead to madness, and abandonment and neglect and _please don’t leave me_ and Danny didn’t want that anymore, he didn’t want anymore rejection and pain and no way, no-fucking-more.

‘No more Steve, NO FUCKNG MORE!’ He screamed.

People all around them were staring, some obviously, some rather sneakily, but fuck it Danny didn’t care. The meekness of Steve’s voice, the resilient note and the fucking feel of his muscles against the palm of Danny’s hands, was too much. Danny let go of Steve’s shoulders, and turned to face away from Steve, resting his forehead against the rough grain of the wood, his eyes fluttering closed as he breathed in and out slowly, and tried to stop the hot violent tears and horror which threatened to engulf him.

A warm strong hand rubbed careful circles on his back, and Danny found the sudden urge to dry heave receding, his breath still rash and ragged.

 _What the fuck have I become?_

He let himself be led back to the office and plopped down onto his chair. A small metallic flask of something was pushed into his hand, and he roused himself from his thoughts enough to catch the note of concern and anxious worry on Steve’s face, his brows furrowed heavily into a deep crease.

‘Here, drink this,’ the cap was unscrewed, and he could smell the strong odour of alcohol. He took a swig, and grimaced at the burning sensation of the scotch as it slid down his throat. Feeling a little bit more settled and less _wild_ he ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes (the flask was on the table at this stage, and Steve had moved it away so as not to spill).

They sat in silence, where occasionally the laughing voices of Chin and Kono filtered in, yet didn’t quite reach their ears.

‘How do you do it?’ Danny asked in a rough voice.

‘Hmm?’

‘This, how do you reconcile yourself to the fact that there is so much to be done and there is only one of you and one of you is nowhere near fucking enough and-’

‘Shhh,’ Steve pressed a finger to his lips, and the babble subsided, ‘it’s okay. Deep breaths.’

One, two, despite himself, Danny was beginning to feel a bit better.

‘How do you get up and prepare yourself for another day, where the perp may get away on a technicality and there are a million ways to bend the law to suit megalomaniacal tendencies and where the weak keep getting trampled on and on and on and we are powerless to stop it? How do you do it without going crazy and’ Danny clamped his mouth shut, his eyes widening, suspiciously bright in the dull interior lighting of his office.

‘You learn to find the joy in simple things,’ Steve stated, rather simply.

‘That’s it?’

‘Learn to cherish what you have, instead of being greedy and asking for more.’

Danny snorted, ‘so you’re saying I should turn to God,’ a tiny hint of the old confidence was etching back into Danny’s voice, and Steve would not have been able to appreciate the sense of familiarity and gladness that flooded him, so much so, that he couldn’t help but break out in a beaming smile.

‘Hey, one step at a time, eh Danno?’

A weak smile, but a smile that Steve was too keenly aware of and would love to be given an opportunity to protect, to care and nurture so that one day, it may be directed at him.

‘Glad to see you’re taking the first step.’

‘Well,’ and now Danny was taking a leaf out of Steve’s book, a playful lilt still a little rough around the edges, but mercifully cheerful, ‘I had a great friend who helped me understand just a bit more about myself, and come to terms with my fucking crises.’

‘So what are you going to say to Kono’s arguments when she gets round to them?’

Danny shrugged, ‘children belong with their parents, and who are we to interfere?’  

The smile that lit Danny’s face could only be classified as charming and dazzling, and the fact that it was directed at Steve made his breath hitch, just a little. And Steve found himself matching it, ear for ear. 

‘Its not my fault that you regard me with something approaching hero status,’ Steve quipped cheerfully. 

‘Oh no, you’re more like the villain, breaking into my house and stealing my clothes and buying me hot soup and plying me with single malt scotch,’ the last part was said without resentment, but with gratitude. 

Steve shook his head, a glint of amusement in his eyes, ‘I thought we were beyond this heroes and villains thing, Danno.’

Danny had the tenacity to chuckle at this statement, earning him a reproving glare from Steve ‘well, whatever you are,’ he waved a hand in the air, ‘you are truly one of a kind.’

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the most difficult to write so far because it was really difficult to stop myself from launching into a societal evils monologue. So I tried to keep it strictly relevant, and boy was it hard. This chapter ended up being a lot more angsty and depressing than I imagined it to be, but well, it came out the way I wanted it to.
> 
> And wow, I am such a bitch to Danny here, for the next few chapters, I will try to be nice to him.
> 
> Anyway, thank you to all the readers of this fic, your comments and kudos are very much appreciated, and give me the strength to keep going, ergo, I will love you forever for your continual support.


	9. Three Blind Mice

With that same damn soft smile again (no that was not his knees turning into jelly, it was a cramp, that was it) and a knowing understanding bright in his eyes, Steve left the office, leaving Danny to brood over the latest discussion with Steve in the dead silence of the office. 

Danny by his very nature was a very stubborn person. When he believed he was right then everyone else was wrong and he would move earth and sky to prove otherwise, this had been very helpful when it came to criminal investigations and all that jazz but he also wondered whether this single-mindedness had completely killed his personal life. Or one of the reasons, at least.

A chuckle full of dark humour escaped him. Most definitely.

He was also surprised at himself this afternoon. Normally Danny liked to maintain a modicum of control over a conversation partner but today was truly the first time he had let himself just sit there, and someone else talk at him. Let someone else dominate the discussion. And that was a first.

This thing with Steve, Danny observed, was not your typical…thing. Sure, it was friendship and he appreciated it all the same but he would have to be completely blind to miss the fact that there was something working on a deeper level here. That friends, while they may always be up for a chat and time spent together, did not willingly insinuate themselves into your lives. They did not crowd you against cold stone walls strong hips pining you against the wall (his face felt furiously hot as he rubbed his right wrist idly) and they most certainly did not break into your house to steal you clean clothes and leave beers and manila folders in their wake and they definitely do not give you scotch to tame the hysteria that had been heretofore clamped down with a vice-like resolve.

No, Steve occupied a special place in Danny’s life at the moment and he found that he didn’t mind Steve’s intrusion, not one bit. He was brave enough to recognise that he was physically attracted to the man (hell, who wouldn’t be), at least on a physical sense, but when it came down to the nitty gritty and he was honest with himself, he enjoyed spending time with the other man, he liked the way Steve had basically insinuated himself into Danny’s life and hell he hadn’t even let Rachel in, to the same extent. But then again Rachel didn’t have that damn smile and Rachel didn’t understand the demons that plagued Danny’s thoughts. Life was fucking rosé for her.  

Here was someone who truly listened to him with unglazed eyes and intense interest, here was someone who Danny could discuss the events of the day with, beer in hand outside in the cool breeze floating by the lanai and here was someone who could fucking understand the concept that policemen have no fucking idea what a social life is. It sounded like a more than okay arrangement for Danny, who by this stage was battle-weary enough to appreciate a break when Fate decided to hand him one. 

Steve’s soft murmur echoed loudly in his ears, ‘ _Que sera sera_ ’ and he found the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile (gosh he was going through these like good coffee).

The last of the deportation files (all fucking fifty of them) sat in the ‘out’ transom to be collected tomorrow for review and he was looking at various places to take Grace on the weekend when there was a soft knock on the door and Chin poked his head through.

‘Danny, got another one. Out in sugar cane field territory near Makapuu-’

‘Wait,’ a note of command clearly audible in the word, and sighed ‘sit down Chin, we need to talk.’

Warily, Chin entered the office and closed the door with a soft click before settling himself in the chair opposite Danny, waiting.

 _Chin must be a commensurate chess player_ , Danny thought idly, _I can’t even tell that he’s fucking pissed at me._

‘I’m sure you know what I want to talk about,’ Danny placed his hands on the table, and began twiddling his thumbs.

Chin nodded, his lips pulling into a thinner line, barely noticeable but loud and clear, all the same, to Danny. A few beats of silence passed by them.

‘Look,’ Danny softened the tone of his voice, all the more to appear understanding even though he knew Chin could probably see through this type of bullshit, ‘I’m sorry, okay?’

Chin crossed his arms. _Not a good sign_ , Danny thought.

‘I’m sure you know this, but I’m not the person you should be saying all this to.’

‘Ha, yeah.’

‘It’s hardly a laughing matter.’ 

‘So what are you going to do now, are you really going to help her with this lost cause? I warn you, I have the law on my side.’ 

‘I want to help her,’ Chin spoke out, after what seemed like an eternity, and a smile broke out and he shook his head, obviously amused ‘but I have no idea how. And when I told her that, she was supremely pissed at me.’ 

‘You can’t fight all her battles for her, Chin.’ 

‘I know.’ 

‘You can’t always protect her from all the nasty shit going on out there,’ Danny hiked his thumb in the general direction of the window, where the sight of palms tree leaves waving merrily in the late afternoon sun was deceptively peaceful. 

Chin finally looked at Danny, something of understanding flashing in his eyes, ‘ha, yeah,’ and Danny saw something deeper, something closer and more possessive shine in those small brown eyes before Chin shrugged, ‘it doesn’t stop me from trying though. She’s still my cousin.’ 

‘And now to the point of this conversation.’ 

‘You want me to talk to her in your place?’ 

‘And maybe get her to drop this whole ‘resentful sulking’ thing. What are we, twelve?’

Chin laughed, the tension dissipating from the office, ‘what, like high school or something?’

‘Let me tell you what she did, she fucking sulked at me while I was standing in line at the cafeteria, looking at me like I killed her dog or something.’

‘That’s my Kono, wearing her emotions on her sleeve.’

‘More like on the edge of her fists as she pummels them into your brain,’ Danny rolled his eyes. 

‘Whatever works, _bruddah_. Anyway, are we going to be heading down to the crime scene soon? We’re losing light here.’

They both stood up and headed out the door, a new understanding fresh and strong between them. They walked down the stairs of the Iolani Palace and into the parking lot to see Steve leaning against the door of the Camaro, fresh bag of malasadas in hand and the red toolbox on the ground at his feet.

‘Steven, why are you still here?’ he raised his voice a bit as the wind was a tad on the strong side. 

‘Three’s a company,’ he stated mildly. 

‘More like a crowd.’ 

‘I think you’re thinking of dinner.’ 

‘When was the last time three people went to dinner? Dinner has always been a two person affair, romantic music and candles and all.’ _Oh shit Danny, real way to be subtle there._ Danny inwardly groaned. 

‘So groups can’t have dinner? What, is there some law on this rock stating that seating arrangements are limited to two at each table? But if this imaginary law does exist, then that’s one law I’m willing to break,’ by this point his voice had dropped down to a conspiratory whisper, barely audible above the wind. 

‘How can you break an imaginary law? ‘Imaginary’ suggests that it doesn’t exist in the first place,’ Danny rolled his eyes. 

‘We can do anything we want to,’ Steve shrugged casually, ‘we are giants. Besides, where in our body of laws does this _law_ exist?’ 

 _That playful lilt made its way into ever conversation_ , Danny thought. ‘Its embedded in our constitution. Look carefully, one of the sections,’ Danny murmured sarcastically. 

‘You mean Amendments, Perry Mason. Only the Australian constitution has sections.’ 

‘No,’ Chin quipped, ‘it has parts, then sections.’ 

Two sets of eyebrows shot up at him, Chin looked way too amused to be going to look at a dead body, like he was barely repressing his laughter, and Danny found himself becoming more exasperated as Chin said, ‘anyway, shouldn’t we get this show on the road? Whilst this verbal tennis is fun, we have work to do.’ 

‘I would, but that’s because this jackass who won’t let get to the driver’s seat,’ Danny pulled his car keys out and had just unlocked the doors when they were plucked out of his had and before Danny even got a huff out in protest Steve saddled into the driver’s seat, an expression of glee plastered on his too-damn-smug face. 

Chin actually had the nerve to chuckle, the traitorous bastard! 

Danny sidled into the front passenger seat and Chin sat down at the back. Putting his foot on the gas they roared out of the parking lot to join mainstream traffic, which thankfully was not bloody murder, the car veering so strongly whenever Steve made a move to turn that Danny was thrown either against the window, or bumped into Steve. 

‘I have asked you and I will ask you again, what are you, some sort of freaky ninja super SEAL?’ 

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Danno.’ 

‘You drive like a madman, slow _dooooooown_ ,’ Steve had taken a really tight corner and the body of the Camaro swerved, physics demanding that everything swerve over to one side such that Danny’s shoulder bumped into Steve’s, rather roughly.

‘I’m keeping in the vicinity of the speed limit.’ 

‘Near enough is not good enough.’

'Bitch, bitch, bitch,' Steve muttered.

'Seriously, does all that stuff about speeding and danger just reverberate off your thick skull?'

‘But I have a very good reason to,’ Steve turned to look at him, smug snotty smile on his face and a look that said he was having way too much fun. He then turned on the police lights and the siren. 

‘Get that damn smug smile off your face, besides, you haven’t answered me.’

‘Oh, really? About what?’ Steve queried innocently. 

‘Are you a freaky ninja robot?’ 

‘Do I look like one?’

‘Haven’t you seen _The Terminator_ they can fool everybody.’ 

There was a combined snicker between Steve and Chin, and Danny rolled his eyes. 

‘Er, yeah, I guess so, Arnie was such a ninja with his 200-pound bulk and all. I could really see him scaling trees and waving his nun-chucks at people,’ Steve said helpfully. 

‘Ninjas don’t use nun-chucks.’ 

‘Yes they do.’ 

‘No they don’t. They use stars and dagger-like implements.’ 

‘Yes they do, why don’t we ask Chin seeing as he probably knows more about this than we do?’ 

A pregnant pause, where there was silence except for the crunch of gravel underneath the tyres as the Camaro sped along the highway. Danny could tell they were moving away from the city centre, and the high-rise buildings became sparser and houses squatted lazily on old foundations in massive fields, sure, farming country, whatever. 

‘I’m staying out of this,’ Chin held up his hands in surrender, ‘you guys are own your own.’ 

‘Gee thanks,’ came the collective mutter. 

‘Well Chin can’t you say something to him,’ Danny hiked a finger at Steve, ‘about his ridiculous desire to commandeer my car?’ 

‘Whatever happened to sharing is caring? And I thought that open communication was a key concept to new budding relationships’ Chin murmured. 

‘You get better gas mileage after all,’ was Steve’s reply. 

‘Excuse me, your stinginess is not attractive at all.’ 

‘Its not stinginess, it’s a deep-rooted concern for climate change and global warming,’ Steve replied with just a little hint of sass. 

‘Pfft. You’re a _doctor_ , you make like ten times more than what I do, what’s stopping you from buying a damn small car? With even better gas mileage?’ 

‘Why get another one when the one you’ve gotten is perfectly good? Besides why must you turn everything into a competition?’ 

‘This is not a competition,’ Danny repeated, ‘okay from now on, I officially shotgun my car for all of eternity, ergo, so that you the lunatic don’t get to drive it anymore.’ 

Steve look at Danny with an expression that caused Danny to want to burst out laughing, it looked like a constipated version of aneurysm face, and raised an eyebrow. 

‘Seriously,’ he drawled slowly, ‘you’d seriously shotgun your own car?’ 

‘You started it, drastic situations require drastic measures.’ 

‘Besides you drive like an old lady,’ and Danny knew, that if Chin weren’t here, Steve would be sticking his tongue out at Danny, and something warm and fuzzy settled into Danny’s stomach. He laughed. 

‘Oh sorry, not everyone drives like they came straight out of _Fast and the Furious_.’ 

‘Shut up.’ 

From the backseat Chin knew that they could go on and on and on and on in this vein, so much so that they might miss the turnoff into Makapuu. He cleared his throat. 

‘Ladies,’ Chin interrupted, but whatever he had wanted to say was lost as Steve and Danny both spun around to glare at him and, because no one was keeping eyes on the road the car swerved rather crazily, crossing the median strip. 

‘Watch out!’ 

‘Relax Chin,’ said Steve, eyeing him, ‘I have awesome driving skills,’ he then turned around and went about his business as if endangering your co-workers through your insane driving was as common as passing the salt. 

‘I could have sworn you missed your calling to become a race car driver.’ Danny didn’t even have to look to know that now it was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes. 

‘Guys,’ Chin repeated, ‘next left here, and stop.’ He also promised himself that short of being stranded in the middle of nowhere in a forest where a serial killer with a propensity for torturing men in Hawaiian shirts lurked (seeing as he seemingly lived in the damn things), he would not get into the same car as these two old ladies in disguise. 

They came up upon a stretch of unsealed road where a gaggle of police cars were parked haphazardly across the bitumen. Steve rolled to a stop and Danny could see uniformed officers and the rest of Steve’s lab boys carrying and loading possible evidence and samples of whatever off to the lab to be tested.

It looks like they had found something. 

Steve put the transmission into park and swaggered out of the car. Danny and Chin climbed slowly out, with Danny stumbling a little bit on the gravel, which crunched underneath their shoes.  Danny rushed over to the yellow tape and flashed his badge. The officer untied the crime scene tape and they crossed the threshold into a sugar cane field. Somewhere towards the middle, someone had set up a series of floodlights to shine overhead to compensate for the sun setting, and the three weaved, twisted and ducked through the sugar cane, their arms and faces scratch by the hard leaves. 

Once they made it into the clearing for some of the sugar cane had been cut down for easy access, and it was only then did Danny note that they had cut a passage from the other side, that they came face to face with the corpse. 

The man was an Asian man, looking like he was in his late thirties was quite handsome, with his chiselled jaw and elegant features. He was also lying spread eagled on the ground, his eyes closed as if in sleep. For all Danny knew the man could have actually been asleep, except for the massive red patch of dark blood staining what remained of his completely sliced shirt. It wasn’t pretty, and Danny could see the tell-tale slashes of a roughly wielded knife on the corpse along the torso, almost as if someone wanted this dead man quartered and hung. 

Even though Danny thought he had seen the worst of it back during his days in Newark, this was a new level of horrible as he could smell the faint tang of the blood mixing with the smell of earth, and it was enough to cause his nostrils to twitch and him to stop to pull out a handkerchief from his pocket and shield his nose and mouth as they got closer. He paused just before he would have stepped onto the large patch of blood which surrounded the man. 

Steve brushed past Danny and knelt down by the corpse, red toolbox by his side. He flicked open the toolbox and took out a pair of latex examination gloves and a small leather case. He closed the lid and put it further away to one side, and Danny found himself reaching over and moving the toolbox further to the side, to give Steve more room to work his own brand of magic. 

He watched with morbid fascination as Steve’s gloved hands ran across the plane of the man’s cheeks, the touch soft and fleeting, checking the temperature of the corpse and opening the eyes to check for pupil reaction. A younger lab assistant saw Steve from across the small clearing, and ran over, with a clipboard complete with sheafs of paper again and knelt down and began to make notes, more likely copying down verbatim what Steve was saying. 

Steve and the younger assistant (who Danny noted with dismay, was looking at Steve with something approaching awe) were huddled relatively close together, and Danny could vaguely identify the churning feelings inside his as being one of superior irritation. Like literally the shove your fist into your mouth to try and stop yourself from screaming type. A very strong desire to get over there at shove the assistant away, to put a degree of separation between them was overwhelming, and no one saw how white his knuckles became as he clenched his wrists, the nails digging into the palms of his hands. 

Hell, they weren’t even _touching_. 

He didn’t even realise that he had been steadily etching closer and closer to the pair, until the assistant turned around and Danny for once happy that he was not five-foot-damn-too-short smirked at the kid something mean and evil (well, he thought so at least). The assistant, reading the notes of do-not-fuck-with-me in Danny’s gaze, fled for the hills, or well, to the car where he would stay there until it was time to head back. 

The sun was setting just beyond the horizon, and Danny could tell that the Forensics team would most likely be here for most of the night gathering evidence. A quick scan of the surrounding area revealed lots of footprints, which the lab boys were busy getting casts and photos of… 

 _Footsteps?_

Danny felt all annoyance and unjustified anger (he was not _jealous,_ not at all) seep out of him leaving him concerned, and strangely nervous. The killer they were looking for worked alone, and a quick survey of the scene revealed that there were three sets of distinctive footprints imprinted in the earth.

Something was very wrong.

‘Got anything of value to offer me, Steve?’ Danny knelt down, wincing at the sharp crack of bone in his bum knee. From this angle, half of Steve’s face was obscured in shadow, but Danny didn’t need 5000 watt lighting to see the grimace and the note of tension there, evident through the furrowed brow and the steely glint and the thinly drawn lips. Something was clearly bothering Steve, and to the same extent, it bothered Danny too.

‘Steve,’ Danny merely repeated. Okay, he was starting to get a little bit worried now. 

‘It’s gone,’ barely audible above the wind and the sound of the herd of police officers trampling across the ground in their wake to get evidence, Steve turned around to look at Danny, worry etched into his face. 

Heart starting to race and rise up into his throat, Danny swallowed. ‘What do you mean ‘it’s gone’?’ 

Steve rummaged along the lines of the man’s body, and it was only when he peeled away the layer of torn fabric that was formerly the man’s shirt did Danny see, and the full horror and meaning of this hit him like a storm. 

What Danny had previously regarded as mere slashes were actually chunks of skin and hair and fat literally cut out of the man’s body, it looked like someone had attacked the cadaver with about as much delicacy as a lumberjack plying through old redwood forest. He felt the bile rose up into his throat, but the bitter taste was not enough to distract him from the full meaning of this. He turned back to Steve and found hazel eyes, more blue than not, regarding him with a clamped expression. _This is really bothering him._

‘The bullet’s gone, Danny. I’ve searched every nook and cranny in this guy’s body and I can’t find it, and he most definitely did die of a gunshot wound.’ 

Blue regarded hazel, and Danny asked the question that was strongly imprinted in both of their minds. 

‘But why remove the bullet? What good will that do, its not as if we won’t be able to tell he died of a fucking gun shot wound.’ In the distance, they could hear Kono yelling for the HPD to start wrapping things up, that there was enough evidence and that everyone should go home to their families and children. A faint pang of something hit Danny, but he was too distracted by the sudden change in Steve’s demeanour, which had snapped from laidback and easygoing to this bundle of nerves and tension.

Steve blew out a breath, ‘your guess is as good as mine, Danno.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is where the Plot part of this story kicks in (don't worry, all of the warnings will be covered in some depth) but I PROMISE that there will still be cute Steve/Danny moments.
> 
> Thank you EVERYONE so far for the kind support through your kudos and comments, I like reading them and I hope you will continue to comment and kudos if you haven't done so already :). I comment back for each and every one.


	10. Coming Home After A Long Journey...

True to his word, Chin had gotten a lift home with Kono from the crime scene, and just as some police officers turned off the flood lights bathing everything in close to inky darkness, Steve let Danny manhandle him across the cleared pathway back to the Camaro.

‘Steve, where are the keys?’

Mute, Steve fished them out from his pocket and handed them to Danny, their fingers lightly brushing. The keys were warm in Danny’s hand from Steve’s body heat, and Danny proceeded to shove Steve into the passenger’s seat, closing the door before he went over to the other side and hopped in the driver’s seat, closing the door with a muted thud.

‘Wait Danny,’ Steve murmured, the first words out since the horrible discovery on the sugar cane field, ‘I need to get my toolbox. Be right back,’ before Danny could even get a word in, he was halfway hidden in the mass of sugar cane, his tall profile barely visible in the darkness of the night.

Danny sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. Seeing Steve this anxious and well, comatose, really worried him, because the guy was usually very calm and collected and Danny had come to think of him as the type of person on which you could depend on, no matter how tough the going got (he resolutely ignored the rest of that damn saying, such a fucking _lie_ ).

The fact that the usual sass and cheekiness that he had come to know and grow fond of had dissipated over the course of an afternoon was unsettling, but not unheard of. Danny had been a cop long enough to know that no matter how tough one became, no matter how many times one stared death in the face and came back relatively physically unscathed, the psychological scars left behind from it was another completely different can of worms. He was sure that Steve in his job as the former Head of HPD Forensics had dealt with death, some more messy and terrible and completely fucking more awful than others. He probably had a stomach of steel to remain unaffected despite all the shit that came about with his ordinary job, but even the most stalwarted resolve can be broken down. 

All it took was a sight, a scent, some sort of tangible thing to trigger a long buried memory, and all hell would break loose. The floodgates would open, and that would be the end of that. 

Whatever Steve saw in the face of that man laying in the middle of the sugar cane field, whatever had been ripped from that corpse must have triggered some sort of deeply repressed memory inside of Steve, and caused him to retreat into the sanctity of his inner self, and Danny did not doubt for one fucking minute that it would be fucking ugly in nature. 

But Danny was a fair man. If he were honest with himself, he wanted to find out more about the mysterious man, and it was only then that he realized that he actually in fact did not know much about the man. Hell, he still didn’t even know if the man was secretly a super SEAL ninja in disguise.

The seconds bled into minutes as he drummed his hands on the steering wheel waiting for Steve to return. The sun had completely gone down by now, and the small hairs at the back of his nape rose up higher with each second Steve was gone, and he found himself awaiting the silly bugger’s return. 

Steve had been there, lent his broad shoulder to Danny to lean on this afternoon, after the disastrous conversation with Kono where his nerves had been heavily frayed and he could control the darkness in himself, the sense of moral ambiguity and double standards that constituted his thoughts, beliefs and actions. Steve had given him some bloody good liquor to calm the budding hysteria, and had even talked him down from that elevated state of consciousness, where he was very close to completely losing all semblance of self-control. Out on the edge and all that jazz.   

Danny found himself wanting to know more about this man, wanting to find out what made Steve tick, his thoughts, his dreams, his desires. He viewed Steve as a complex puzzle, a jigsaw of misshapen pieces, some more delicate than others, which together stuck together to create the man know as Steven McGarrett. 

And now, it was clear that Steve needed a little helping hand. 

He let out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding when Steve came back from the field, that rusty old toolbox clutched tightly in his right hand, his movements heavy and rigid, even in the soft light of the crescent moon that hung overhead in the night time sky. 

When Steve reached the door to the Camaro Danny popped the boot open for him, and in the absence of any sound other than the soft breeze of the wind past the endless sugar cane, whistling past the leaves, the metallic _plonk_ of the toolbox into the boot resonated way too loudly for Danny. When the boot was closed Danny reached over and swung the passenger door open for Steve, who got in with an expression of a man waiting (or being driven) to his own execution. He pulled the door closed, and sat there, rather stony faced looking ahead clearly lost in his own thoughts as Danny started the engine and pulled away from this isolated field in the middle of nowhere, secretly hoping that whatever Steve had unearthed there, would continue to stay there, untouched. 

Maybe if Danny put some distance between them and the field (the body was now safely ensconced in the City Morgue) they could run away from the ugly truth and memories that had been unraveled today. 

But Danny had never really believed in running away, he was a man who believed in getting the job done, no matter what the cost. And right now, first priority was to break through this invisible wall that Steve had built around himself, reach out to the damn saucy and playful and wonderful man Danny knew was lurking underneath, waiting to come out. 

Oh shit, the last time Danny had used the word ‘wonderful’ in regards to anybody had been before the altar as he looked into Rachel’s beaming expression and felt the world narrow down until it was just him and- 

 _Oh fuck, Williams. What_ have _you gotten yourself into?_  

‘So, er,’ Danny voiced, ‘unless you want me to drop you off at the office where you can sleep on the couch in my office, and wake up tomorrow morning with the backache that ate Scotland, tell me where you live, and I’ll drop you home.’ 

‘404 Piikoi St,’ Steve’s voice was almost drowned out by the faint hum of the engine, not a good sign. 

‘Do you even want to go home?’

There were a few beats of silence, and Danny kept sneaking glances at Steve out of the corner of his eye, and seeing that sense of defeat clear in Steve’s eyes caused something inside him to break, and he longed to reach out and stroke that chiseled jaw, to murmur how everything will be alright and that _please, don’t look like that anymore because its crushing to see your spirit so broken and please please please_ -

Danny programmed the address into the GPS unit, and followed the woman’s voice as she guided him along the vast expanses of highway into an area of Honolulu where the houses were large and beachside facades were as common as the seashells and kelp that lined the magnificent white sandy shores.

404 Piikoi St was a two storey weatherboard house which had seen better days, or as far as Danny could tell had not been taken up with a paintbrush and tar since the 1970s judging by the chipped roof tiles and the peeling paint (the horrendous faux pas that were the brown, red and orange retro curtains weren’t beyond mentioning). Pots of blue, pink and purple hydrangea and white camellias squatted lazily all over the yard.

Danny froze, his heart thudding painfully against his ribcage. For all of the time that Danny knew Steve, he had never considered that Steve might have a life beyond that of his job, that he may have someone to come home to waiting for him with a warm smile and freshly baked cookies or even a little boy scampering along the hallways waiting for the return of his father…

Clamping down on that horrible thought he took a few moments to compose his thoughts and regain a semblance of self-control (it seemed that whenever it came to Steve his self-control was non-existent). There was no wedding band on his finger, so Steve can’t be married, and that thought alone was enough to give him the strength to put one foot forward, and proceed to lug Steve (who was still disturbingly quiet) out of the car and up the front driveway.

Whatever this may involve, Danny would make sure that he was ready to come to terms with it. Steve was his good friend, after all, and he hoped that perhaps the familiar sight of home might make Steve feel a little better.  

They wordlessly walked up past the front gate, the old wooden steps groaning under the weight of full-grown men. Sweat dotted Danny’s forehead by this point, and he was slightly flushed and panting and oh so tired after having to literally carry more than one hundred something pounds of loose-limbed man up the steps. He took a few seconds to compose himself and knocked on the front door.

‘Steve, give me your keys.’

‘Don’t have them, Dad was supposed to be home by this time. Clearly not,’ he chuckled full of maudlin dark humour, ‘guess then no one is.’

It was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out what kind of thirty something year old man still has to wait for his father to let him inside the house, but then he remembered his future meeting with Dolphin Trainer Barbie and he clamped his mouth shut. Just barely.

‘Okay Mr. Helpful’ Danny continued calmly, ‘I am going to let go, and go in search of a spare key. If you want to spare me this grievous inconvenience, tell me where it is, otherwise, you can fall face first in the mud for all I care as I go in search of one. Or, we could wait for your Dad to get home.’

‘Wouldn’t that make quite a sight,’ Steve muttered with the ghost of his usual sass.

‘Then, tell me where the damn key is.’ 

‘Under the pot of hydrangeas,’ Steve stated simply, and Danny found relief flooding his senses, Steve was beyond the monosyllabic responses, and that was always a good thing. Danny found himself smiling.  

‘There are like 20 different pots around the front garden alone,’ Danny turned his head to look at Steve, ‘which one?’ 

‘The one next to the door. To your right,’ Steve was watching him, a note of uncertainty flashing in his eyes. 

‘Well, you seem to be a-ok now, you can let go of me.’ 

‘Don’t want to.’ 

‘What?’ Danny’s heart rate accelerated and it was only now that he noted how Steve was draped like a bloody heavy and stifling hot security blanket across him, how their hands clamped onto each other and Steve was close enough that Danny could see every bob of his Adam’s apple and feel each exhaled breath on his cheek. He was ensconced in a blanket of one hundred something pound man in the sticky humid heat of the Hawaiian perpetual summer and he found he didn’t mind. Not one fucking bit. 

But his bum knee was groaning and straining under Steve’s additional weight and with a great sense of irritation did he finally say, ‘my bum knee is about to give out, no offence, but you’re not a girl I can carry across the threshold.’ 

And with that, Steve laughed, the first honest to goodness laugh since that afternoon when they uncovered the body, and Danny felt his heart and his mood lifting, and the sense of relief intensified, a warming sensation shooting throughout his body. 

‘Your wish is my command, Danno,’ and a strange sense of déjà-vu settled over Danny, but he found he didn’t mind at all. 

Steve finally got off him, and not letting go of his hand the entire time, pulled the key from under the cracked pot directly to the left of the front door, and opened it one handed, and pulled Danny inside in a beat. 

The hallway was relatively short and Steve flicked on the lights, and Danny found himself looking at a living room arrangement that would not have been out of place in a Martha Stewart magazine from the 1960s. Complete with cane furniture and (what Danny supposed would have been cool in their heyday) lava lamps. 

Steve wandered past the single seats and proceeded to pull Danny down to sit beside him on the sofa, they sat there in silence like this for an undetermined time, their hands not letting go of each other, clasping at each other like they were anchors to the ground during a violent storm. To Danny, he was hyper aware of each groove and ridge in Steve’s hand from calluses caused by holding a gun to the lines and wrinkles of the palm of his hands.

The tide continued to keep on smashing, breaking against the shore, and Danny found himself admitting that listening to the ebb and swell was relaxing and peaceful. It wouldn’t be a bad place to be, all the time. He cleared his throat, and reclined back on the sofa, peering at Steve out of the corner of his eye, and noted that Steve showed no sign of wanting to move away, or do anything.

‘This is definitely different.’

Steve turned around to look at him, utterly relaxed, ‘what do you mean?’

‘Normally when people invite guests into their houses, it is always customary to offer the guest a drink,’ Danny replied nonchalantly.

Steve stifled a laugh, and cleared his throat, ‘er, would you like a drink?’

Danny raised an eyebrow, ‘do I even have to ask?’

‘Alright,’ chuckling, Steve let go of Danny’s hand, though his fingers ghosted along Danny’s fully sleeved arm as he padded to the kitchen, and Danny shuddered, exhaling.

Danny heard the sound of a fridge door opening and the clinking of glass bottles before the door was slammed with a soft thud and Steve re-emerged with two icy cold bottles of beer in his hands, and placed one in front of Danny on the coffee table. He watched as Steve expertly pulled the lid off his bottle and drain half the contents in one go, he raised an eyebrow.

Danny sighed ‘I had this theory that you were secretly a kid found in the wilderness of an African Savannah who was brought back by wealthy Americans onto this rock. I’m sad to say that I was proven right.’ 

Steve choked on his beer and Danny promised himself that he’d make sure the damn guy had finished swallowing before he began teasing him.

‘What the fuck does that mean?’ Steve coughed out as Danny moved to stroke Steve’s back, all the better to get the beer down. Yeah, that was it. Great, aneurysm face was shining oh so brightly on Steve’s face, Danny laughed a little softly and moved to grab the beer bottle with one hand as he continued to rub circles onto his friend’s back. He put his feet on the wooded coffee table.

‘Well, people also offer their guests h’ors doeuvres along with drinks.’

‘If you wanted food, why can’t you just be normal and say “I want food?”’

‘You’d make a terrible dinner host.’

‘Fuck you,’ Steve replied with a smile on his face.

‘So what do you have to eat?’

Steve’s brow furrowed as he thought for a few moments ‘um. I’ve got a bag of malasadas still in your car.’ 

‘You’d offer your guests cold, hard stale malasadas?’ 

Steve shrugged, ‘it beats hunger. Oh c’mon I only bought them this afternoon.’

‘Only this afternoon,’ okay, Danny’s voice had gone up considerably in pitch by now, and showed every sign of getting higher, ’okay, in addition to letting your guests go hungry and plying them with alcohol you’d seriously serve cold malasadas? That is only an option for recalcitrant partners. What, where you dropped on the head as a baby?’ 

Steve’s face was scrunched up in dismay, clearly offended, ‘and tell me, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ his voice had dropped and gone gravely.

Danny held a hand up. ‘There is no need for evidence as the facts speak for themselves. You would not be above letting your guests, who mind you, have hauled your sorry ass all the way home instead of leaving you the fuck alone in the middle of a sugar cane field in the middle of nowhere to die of exposure-’

‘You cannot die of exposure in Hawaii-’

‘Yes you can.’

‘No, you can’t.’

‘Yes.’

‘No, it’s-’

‘Yes you can. Enough exposure to the wilderness, and you die, simple as that.’

‘No you can’t. You need freezing temperatures, and Hawaii isn’t exactly freezing, so to speak.’

‘Yeah,’ Danny rolled his eyes, ‘it’s a fucking tropical paradise here.’

Steve smirked at him, ‘yeah, it is.’

‘So are we going to get pizza, or what? I’m hungry,’ Danny said.

‘I’ve got some bread and butter in the fridge,’ Steve joked, barely clamping down on his laughter.

Danny harrumphed, ’forget it, this is a lost cause. I’ll call for the fucking pizza myself.’

‘You’re definitely paying for it then.’

‘I can see why people are drawn to you,’ Danny deadpanned, ‘your stinginess is a fucking turn on.’

‘Can we get Hawaiian pizza?’ Steve asked.

‘Right, I’m putting my foot down on the line here.’

Steve raised an eyebrow and looked at Danny with a truly perplexed expression. He sighed.

‘Pizza is a savoury food, and I refuse to let any sort of creation which blurs the heretofore sacred boundary between sweet and savoury much the way that pineapple pizza does. It is an abomination, a freak of nature’ Danny said with all the seriousness of a doctor telling someone their child has died.

Steve burst out laughing.

‘I’m serious Steve, this is a deal breaker.’

‘Got it,’ he affirmed, wiping the mirth from his eyes, ‘no pineapple pizza. So what do you like then?’

‘Pepperoni.’

‘How predictable.’

‘I couldn’t care less,’ Danny shrugged, ‘as long as the pizza arrives’ he glanced at the clock hanging over the mantelpiece, where it had just ticked past 8.50pm, ‘by 9 tonight, not tomorrow.’

‘You got it,’ Steve retrieved his iPhone from one of the many pockets in his cargo pants (must come in handy for carrying all sorts of crap when the need arises, Danny thought).

‘Hey Joe,’ Steve spoke into the phone, ‘it’s Steve McGarrett here. Listen, can I get a delivery for one large pepperoni pizza and a Hawaiian classic. Could I also have the order dispatched as early possible, I’ve got an emergency here,’ a chuckle, ‘yeah, you can always count on that, eh? Thanks mate, buh bye.’

‘Since when have you become an Australian?’

‘What?’

‘You said, ‘mate,’ that’s a totally Aussie thing to say.’

‘Yeah, I guess I did, so?’

‘We Americans say ‘chum.’’

‘That sounds more British to me than anything. That was the first time I’ve heard you say chum. Ever.’

‘I draw the line at bloke though, say it, and you’re dead.’

Steve snorted, ‘I’d like to see you try. Besides, what kind of guest sneakily listens into their host’s conversations, I’d say that was going a bit far, don’t you think?’ and there it was, after all the dragging that Danny had done, that damn saucy _lilt_ was back, and Danny heaved a sigh of true relief.

Everything was going to be alright now.

There was a knock on the door, and five seconds later the smell of hot meat and fried dough floated through into the living room and only then did Danny’s stomach truly rumble.

From the doorway, Danny could hear Steve’s ‘thanks, chum (that last word was more like shouted out) I really appreciate it,’ and Danny snickered, despite himself.

There was the sound of soft footfalls, and five seconds later, the pizza boxes open before them did Danny see the suspiciously familiar yellow things on top of Steve’s pizza.

‘Steven.’

‘Yes, dear?’

‘Tell me that is not pineapple. On a pizza.’

‘They’re nowhere near your person. Shut up, and eat your pizza.’

‘They’re close enough to pose a threat to my personal wellbeing.’

Steve threw his pizza down back onto his box, ‘dear God, I am going to regret this. But why Daniel, how could _tiny_ pieces of sliced fruit pose a threat to your welfare?’

Danny leveled his gaze on the tiny little triangles, and Steve rolled his eyes.

‘Nothing’s stopping you from picking them off the pizza and lobbing then at my person. The threat of air warfare and all that collateral damage. They’re the perfect size, after all.’

A glimmer of understanding in Steve’s eyes, he caught on ‘ah, I see. Right. I’d waste my precious food whilst there are children starving in Africa.’

‘You have motive,’ Danny replied, not missing a beat, ‘I know about your vendetta against my ties. Thanks by the way, for choosing those two ties to get rid of, Aunt Clara has terrible taste after all.’ Danny involuntarily shuddered at the craziness of the person who thought pineapples and piano key ties were a stroke of designer genius.

‘You’re very welcome, Danny. Isn’t that what friends are for?’

‘Yeah Steve, I guess you’re right.’

They both looked at each other, understanding and something very close to affection in their eyes, glinting mutually in the soft light and laughed as they clinked their beer bottles together.   

Later on, after Steve bid Danny adieu and he had a slice of pineapple pizza shoved into a plastic container (Steve had not taken no for an answer and had literally demanded that Danny take the goddamn thing, spouting the importance of new experiences and all that shit) on the passenger side next to the by now stale malasadas, Danny sank back into the driver’s seat of the Camaro, and sighed, an inexplicably happy sound as Steve’s last words at the gate replayed themselves in his mind.   

‘Thank you Danno, for everything,’ warm eyes and that damn smile and Danny felt like he was sixteen again, just for a little while.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing the McDanno banter, I'm seriously thinking of just posting conversations between these two boys on everything and anything under the sun.
> 
> Yes/No?
> 
> Yes, I admit that this is a departure from my promises of hard-hitting plot grinding chapters, but variety is the spice of life, don't you agree?
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed reading this Chapter, and please kudos/comment your thoughts!


	11. Conversations Around Coffee Cups

Danny awoke to the insistent patter of rain on the corrugated iron roof, and opened his eyes blearily. The sky beyond the widow was completely grey and dark outside, and it couldn’t have just been him, but he was so cold that he shivered and resisted the strong impulse to burrow deeper into the covers and just stay there. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, his attention was diverted to the steadily spreading wet patch on the carpet and the stead _drip drip drip_ of the leaking ceiling.

There was no indication that this was just one of those fleeting rainstorms that are commonplace in Hawaii.

No, there was every sign that the rain was here to stay.

***

Danny had just walked into the office kitchen and deposited the slice of pineapple pizza into the fridge. Just as he was done putting the coffee beans into the grinder and was waiting for the damn thing to percolate did Kono come bounding in, looking about as refreshed as he did, dark circles under here eyes and all. There was an uncomfortable pause, and his blue eyes noted the thick manila folder tucked under her arm. A few more beats of silence passed as they regarded each other in the brightly lit office.

‘Morning.’

‘Morning. That there for me?’

She nodded, ‘compliments of myself and Chin.’

‘Thanks.’ 

The folder was passed over to him, and his sluggish uncaffeinated brain didn’t tell his hand to grip the folder tight enough and some pictures spilt out onto the floor and they both bent down to pick them up, Danny’s warm fingers brushing against her cold ones. He quickly gathered the photos up and placed them on the counter along with the file.

She was standing there, clearly expecting something from him, brown eyes fixed on every movement.

‘Er, would you like some coffee?’

‘Sure,’ that sense of expectancy was still there, shining brightly despite the dark circles and all. And then it hit him.

‘Why don’t you go and wait for me in my office, I’ll bring the coffee in a few,’ Danny spoke whilst keeping his eyes fixed on the coffee, which was percolating nicely. He could hear her footsteps along the hallway and the creak of wood as his office door was pushed open. Once the coffee was done and he poured two cups of pure black coffee, he took one heavy gulp of the stuff, savouring the way it chased the chills out of his bones and shifted his brain into drive before pouring himself another one, cataloguing his thoughts. He then clamped the folder under his arm and walked slowly back to his office, with two hot steaming coffees in his hand. He entered his office to find Kono sitting opposite his chair at the desk, and handed her a cup.

‘Thanks Danny.’

The creak of the chair sounded way too loud in the room as he sat down, and the cup clattered too loudly on the saucer plate.

‘I wonder if you have been avoiding me, _sir_ ’ she spoke slowly.

He raised an eyebrow, ‘what do you mean?’ Ah good. The coffee was kicking in, and he could bloody feel his outlook on life get brighter.

‘Well, its not everyday that a rookie like me disagrees with her boss like that. And I am sorry,’ she murmured softly.

His face relaxed, and he smiled softly at her, ‘No, Kono. You are much more than just a rookie,’ at this point her eyes were still fixed determinedly on his, to the point that it was possibly considered outright staring, which was rude, and annoyance bristled sharp in his mind, but in the interest of intra-office unity he persevered ‘I’m sorry Kono, it was unfair of me to say those things.’

And then, he could have sworn under oath that there was a tinge of pink to her cheeks as she said, ‘I know the law, I know that it tries to be fair and all that, but looking at some of the cases and the outcomes which result, I can’t help thinking that there can always be more done.’

He chuckled lightly, taking another sip of coffee, ‘I’m glad you realise that, and it’s our job to uphold the law, so that as much that can be possibly done is done. Maybe perhaps one day, the job will get done.’

She smiled at him, truly beaming and her eyes even shone radiant in the artificial lights of the office as she ran a hand through her hair, ‘I’m glad that you’re my boss,’ the smile became cheeky, as she stood up ‘thanks again for the coffee Danny,’ and with that, she was gone, the door closing with a soft click behind her.

Danny settled into the warm grooves of his chair, and began reading the file she had given him. As soon as he opened the folder the pictures stared back at him, and he found the newfound faith in humanity temporarily imbibed through glorious coffee dissipate as quickly as a breath in the chilly Newark winter air, and that overbearing sense of hopelessness overwhelm him again.

The man that had been murdered on the field was Ho Kam, a man who was several generations into a line of sugar cane farmers. He was 38 years old and supposedly lived alone in a house on the rural property which was also his farm, which stretched for several hectares and was bordered by a small inlet of water which fed into the large river delta which eventually emptied out into the Pacific Ocean. It was interesting to note that he had apparently bought the river inlet stream (Danny raised an eyebrow). There was even a stable where he kept some horses. The man had no debts, no mortgages; there were no easements or covenants against his name, a model citizen, if Danny ever saw one.

Danny stared at the papers hard, _why would the serial killer bother killing a sugar cane farmer?_

He picked up his cup of coffee from the saucer and took another sip. He put the papers down and started rifling through the photos, but didn’t get very far as every time he saw the crime scene photos, the heavy flash of the camera causing some parts of the print to become burning white, his thoughts jumped to Steve, those downcast eyes so morose and fucking _lost_ that it caused Danny’s breath to hitch.

Exasperated, he flipped all the photos face down and concentrated on the next few sheafs of documents, which had been stamped with the FBI insignia. Raising an eyebrow, he began reading, and it was only then that the proverbial floor was withdrawn from his feet, and he was left feeling a bit sucker-punched.

Kam Ho was more than an exporter of sugar cane. According to these documents, the FBI had been conducting a secret investigation into him for the importation of heroin and women from poor remote villages in the Chinese mountains. The heroin would be bundled in the women’s luggage or else swallowed in condoms, and the women would travel in a small dingy boat all the way out into the Pacific Ocean, where they would pass into the private property of his river inlet and the right of church sanctuary would kick in.

Feeling thoroughly sick to his stomach, the nausea swelled once Danny discovered that five of the women had died as the condoms had ruptured in their stomachs and they overdosed. He snorted despite himself, thinking that this figure represented the tip of the iceberg as he had no doubt that countless others would have been tossed into the ocean if they had died during the voyage.

 _It was a fucking insult to those Vietnamese people who had fled by boat after the war_ , Danny thought.

He sat there stewing in his own thoughts for a while before Steve walked in, looking as chipper as one was to expect this early in the morning with his eco-mug of coffee clutched in one hand, and another one in the other, a laptop and yet another fucking manila folder clamped under his arm, a smile on his face.

‘Morning Danno.’

‘Morning yourself,’ he muttered in reply, and was glad to see that the smile had diminished, just a little.

‘Hmm, this is rather unusual, you’ve had your coffee, but you’re still grumpy.’

‘I am not, its just hard to be happy when you’re surrounded by so much crazy shit,’ he found himself snapping. He cleared his throat and promised to try harder, Rachel’s comment about how fucking easy he was to read once lost in something (usually anger) coming back clearly to bite him, ‘er, sorry. Please sit down.’

Steve settled down onto the very same chair that Kono had been in that morning, and offered the second cup of coffee to Danny, who shook his head. Steve raised an eyebrow.

Danny sighed, ‘I’ve already had 2 and something cups this morning, despite the fact that it is just shy of 9, and I have no desire to get a stomach ulcer just short of getting my first white hair from this bloody case, but the sentiment is just as appreciated, anyway’ he fidgeted in his chair under the weight of those hazel eyes fixed unwaveringly on him, ‘thank you, and what brings you here?’ 

Steve actually scoffed at that, ‘my, I never realised you were this vain, Danno.’

‘People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.’

The eyebrow shot higher, ‘what do you mean by that?’ he queried softly as he sipped from his eco-mug.

‘You probably spend hours slaving away at the gym sculpting those muscles of yours,’ Danny snapped.

Not missing a beat, ‘been feeling me up, have you?’ that damn smug yet saucy as hell lilt was back, and the defences of caffeine slipped away like sand through Danny’s hands, and his brain went somewhere to hide, leaving him with no comeback for that.

‘I really hope you bang your head on whatever arcane torture device you slave over,’ Danny blurted out, and inwardly groaned at the stupidity of that comeback. What the fuck had happened to his conversationalist skills? It seemed that lately they had become latent, not potent, and he made a mental note to stop it with the beers (not that he was anywhere near the brain damage region in his consumption) and maybe do a crossword puzzle or two. Maybe a Sudoku for good measure.

Steve chuckled, ‘not possible, ‘cause I surf,’ then his voiced dropped, dropped so low that Danny found himself leaning into Steve to catch his next few words ‘why torture yourself when you could be having fun?’ The sentence was spoken with conviction, like as if Steve really was asking Danny, and not about surfing, oh no.

‘You haven’t answered my question, why are you here?’ He continued on bravely, suspiciously hot cheeks notwithstanding as he forced his breathing to remain level, or a close to normal as possible.

‘I’m here to present to you my findings on the corpse,’ Steve stated simply.

‘Uh-huh, and I’m sure ‘findings’ in Steve-ese is analogous to ‘torturing the shit out of your partner through embarrassment.’’ There, he managed to salvage some of his dignity in this conversation that was heading in a direction Danny wasn’t ready for. He gulped.

‘I don’t see a sign of a whip or a chain anywhere near either of us,’ Steve quipped sassily, ‘but I’ll keep it in mind for the future. Do you want me to continue?’

This conversation had gotten too deep too fast and showed every inclination of getting awkward ASAP but thankfully Danny was in enough of a state of mind to blurt out, ‘please continue Steve, what have you found so far?’ His was did not just squawk, no it did not.

Disappointment briefly flashed in Steve’s eyes, and that left Danny wondering, but all thoughts were abruptly driven out of his head as Steve handed him what might be the very first break in their serial killer investigation from the get go on a fucking silver platter.

***

They were halfway down the Kalaniole Highway out of Honolulu when Steve cut across the discussion.

‘Danny, call for back up,’ Steve’s tone was serious, the playfulness evident earlier dissipating completely.

‘What? Why? We’re not apprehending them, just want to ask them a few questions, that’s all,’ Danny shrugged.

‘Trust me, call for back up,’ Steve repeated, as if that was the end of that.

‘You do not need back up for routine questioning. You call for back up,’ Danny crossed his arms. It seemed that his maturity level was reaching all time lows, and he blamed it on Steve.

‘You’re really bossy, you know that?’ Danny rolled his eyes but called for back up anyway, radioing to Central Dispatch.

A few minutes later, they stepped out of the Camaro and Danny expected Steve to just go on ahead of him but he ducked to the boot of the Camaro and pulled out the red toolbox that had remained in Danny’s boot since yesterday. Standing under the shelter of a large black umbrella from the rain Danny had a chance to observe Steve’s fluid movements as he closed the boot and went around the fender, jumping across the pool of water on the road onto the curb. In the light of day Danny could see the word ‘CHAMP’ imprinted on the sides.

They were in the industrial side of Oahu, where the streets were cramped and narrow and tall factories loomed on either side. Metal fencing sat at the front with holes in it, holes that no one had been bothered to close up for the cut wire just kept on getting cut. The air was filled with the buzzing sounds of saws and men in safety hats and overalls walked along the streets carrying goods in and out of utes and trucks parked haphazardly along the street.

They stepped inside the front gates of ‘Far East Imports’ and managed to reach the front desk and Danny had just said ‘Detective Danny Williams can we speak to Mr Wai Leung Ho please’ before all hell broke loose.

The female receptionist, who looked way too buff and muscular to have spent all of her time in front of a Dictaphone typing machine, pulled out a gun from under her desk and started shooting blindly at them, hollering something in Cantonese before soon enough, three more men came streaming down the stairs and through the doors in an attempt to crowd them in.

Danny automatically ran towards two of the men coming in through the door and dropped to the floor, his heart thumping loudly in his ears as adrenaline buzzed through his veins and rolled around, seizing his gun from its hip holster, before kicking his leg out so to trip one and kick the other hard in the shins, there was a combined grunt of pain and clean breaking sound before they fell to the ground. He grabbed the gun that one of the guys had dropped and stood up, holding the guns in front of the men’s faces. They automatically raised their hands above their heads, as if they had done this countless times before, their fear smelling rank in the small confines of the office.

‘Freeze, do not move, Hawaii Five O. Remain where you are.’

As he checked them for hidden weapons (finding a stash of three knives in the process) he handcuffed them, and forced them back on the floor. Only when the sounds of police sirens filtered through the air did he breathe easily. Out of the corner of his eye did he see Steve yanking the gun away from the receptionist and pushing her against the wall, before frisking her, and something ugly bubbled in the pit of Danny’s stomach, and he turned away, just in time to see Wai Leung trying to scale through a hole in the metal fence but the police caught up to him, Danny wiped the sweat from his brow. He looked around, and saw that the third guy who had come running down the stairs was lying in a crumple heap, his face contorted in pain as he arm was bent at an unholy angle and he spit blood out onto the dusty floor. 

Danny hauled the two guys off their feet outside, followed by Steve with the third guy and the receptionist, and they were shoved into a blue and white car before being driven away, Danny and Steve just standing there, watching the blue and white car got smaller and smaller, until it disappeared completely.

‘Good job, partner,’ Danny turned towards Steve, standing there looking absurdly handsome with something like affection flashing in his eyes.

‘You forgot this,’ and Steve handed the umbrella which Danny had thrown out of his hand when he dropped to the floor back to him, their fingers brushing and lingering for just a tad longer than what would be professional, but Danny found he didn’t give a flying fuck, honestly.

Steve smiled _that_ smile at Danny, whose knees felt like they had turned into jelly, and he inwardly cursed his bum leg for the umpteenth time (yeah, that was it).  

Some common experiences in life are special and should truly be cherished as they create a special bond between partners, and in Danny’s mind, charging into a building which served doubly as a drug warehouse and distribution point without tac vests and bringing down four people armed to the eyeballs with knives and guns before the taking of toast and tea was one of them, and Danny, who usually hated any strenuous activity of any sort which caused his bum knee to groan and sweat to dot his brow, found he didn’t mind. 

Not one bit at all, as his face broke out into an all-encompassing shit-eating grin.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you liked this chapter, please remember to kudos/comment I will love you forever :)


	12. All The Things That He Wanted

Wai Leung sat in a hard metal chair inside the small dingy interrogation room, where the light flickered and buzzed overhead from a light bulb which had seen better days. The police had spared no expense in spending big on the luxuries in these cells, from the hard wooden table with countless grooves from where suspects dug their nails into the soft underside of the wood, to the gray wash on the walls which gave off the impression of being underground in a mouldy, damp bunker. Security cameras stood on the ceiling in every four corners of the room, recording everything to the main HPD servers.

The man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the bright red crimson of blood standing starkly on his otherwise pale features. Other than the bright red gash on his cheek and his ruffled, manhandled appearance (he had even sent one of the officers to the infirmary with a nasty bite mark on the face), he looked relatively at ease, considering the circumstances.

Chin and Kono stood with their faces literally mashed into the other side of the mirror, breath fogging up the glass with each breath, their eyes fixed unblinking onto the scene in front of them, as Steve lounged on a chair behind them, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the familiar bob of blonde hair on the other side of the glass, his fingers clenched tightly into a fist such that his knuckles had gone completely white, oblivious to the 5 uniformed officers which loomed behind him.

***

Danny stretched his shoulders and cracked his knuckles, settling down for the long haul. Interrogations had never been his particular cup of tea, but he was willing to get the job done, and as Head of Five O, the ball landed firmly in his court. His eyes roamed over Wai Leung, taking in the glimmer of the gold Rolex watch and the thick gold chain that hung limply around his neck, with some sort of Chinese character jade pendant peaking out from under his rather muted Hawaiian shirt. He cleared his throat, laying his hands before him on the table, leaning in. Somewhere in his mind his brain registered a tiny feeling of satisfaction as he watched Wai Leung’s eyes widen and the pupils blow out, just a little bit, in fear.

Danny spoke in a smooth calculated voice, designed to get under his skin and make his blood boil, ‘I’m sure you know why you’re here, Mr Leung.’

‘I want my lawyer, I refuse to say anything more until he gets here,’ Wai spat out, outright hatred contorting his face into a twisted mask, giving Danny such a look that said quite plainly _I will fucking kill you once these handcuffs come off_.

Danny steepled his fingers, looking almost as if he were deep in prayer, and closed his eyes.

‘He will come soon,’ Danny continued, reopening them to gaze levelly at Wai before twisting the corners of his mouth into a knowing smile ‘once someone comes out of the woodwork to bail his sorry ass out of jail.’

A small tic, just under the left eye was all Danny needed to know that he truly was getting underneath the sod’s skin.

‘You’re lying,’ the word was rough and meant to be a threat, but the tic proved otherwise, and Danny could tell, with just a little more work Wai Leung would be singing like a bird, the notes beautiful and crystal clear for all in the room.  

‘Well, his office is-’ Danny peered down at the file in front of him, taking his time in searching for the address ‘-is just around the corner from here, so it shouldn’t take him long. We have all the time you need.’

A tense silence settled over them, where before soon a fine sheen of sweat shined on Wai’s forehead, and he glanced up at the clock every few seconds, the sheen become droplets which trickled down his face onto the table. From what everyone could see, his shirt was now damp with sweat and his left leg had started jerking around a bit, obviously an uncontrollable tic.

For all the nervousness and tension that was evident from Wai, Danny reclined back on the chair, giving off every intention that he was going to do this, was going to succeed and drag the information and do it as his own pace, as if he all the time in the world, cool as a fucking cucumber. Everyone watched as Danny weaved his special brand of insufferable magic over the perp, obviously entranced, but Steve was not fooled in any way, shape or form.

He was able to see the way Danny’s jaw was clamped tightly as he rubbed the rough stubble that had started to emerge there, or the way Danny’s other hand was clamped against his thigh, the grip tight enough to make his knuckles white with the pressure, tightening with each passing second until it looked borderline painful, even half hidden under the shadow cast by the table.

‘That’s our Danny,’ Kono murmured in awe, ‘shit, look at how the guy is practically pissing himself in there.’

Chin nodded, ‘did Danny actually call the lawyer?’

‘I did,’ Steve replied, shrugging, ‘and no one answered the call.’

The seconds bled into minutes and then into hours, before Wai Leung’s breathing became more shallow and rushed, and a desperate glint shone from his bloodshot eyes.

‘Where the fuck is he? Oh he should have listened to me when I told him to keep it in his pants, that fucker, oh how could he have done something so stupid, where is-’

Danny cut across the babble.

‘Well,’ Danny made a dramatic show of waving his hands in the air ‘it seems as if your friend won’t be joining us today. Now why don’t we get down to business,’ he turned his eyes back to the folder, where various reports stared back at him.

‘Your name is Wai Leung Ho, brother to the deceased Kam Ho of 231 Holua Street, Honolulu?’

Wai Leung clamped his lips into an ever-thinner line, and Danny regarded him with a steely gaze.

‘Look, we have evidence to suggest that you were enjoined with your brother’s criminal enterprise. We have logs of telephone calls between you and brother as well as from you to other individuals which will hold up in a court of law.’

Wai Leung scoffed, ‘all you can prove is that I have a close relationship with my brother, and maybe that I have a vibrant social life. Big fucking deal. I’m amazed that you can be sitting here with me crapping on about who knows what when there are so many other betters things you could be doing with your time.’

‘Let us decide what constitutes good use of our time.’

‘Well, you’re doing a fucking good job at it, when there are dope pushers and serial killers roaming the streets,’ his mouth twisted up into a truly gruesome smile, and he went for it, the proverbial thrust driving the knife deeper and twisting it, ‘and instead of catching these fuckers, you hold me, against my will, in what is clearly a flagrant abuse of human rights.’

‘You’ve been apprised of your rights, sir’ Danny replied calmly, completely unfazed ‘you’re a person of interest in our investigation, and you alone have the power to remove that from your person by cooperating with us.’

‘I’ve been cooperating, haven’t I? Sitting here listening to you go on and on and on-’

‘-by giving us detail. Names, dates,’ Danny cut across cleanly.

Wai snorted, ‘I have nothing of value to offer you. Stop beating a dead horse.’

He then proceeded to spit in Danny’s face.

‘So much ill will towards me,’ he murmured as he extracted a handkerchief and wiped his face. It only touched the tip of his nose, clearly years of chain smoking having reduced Wai’s ability to spit with projectile motion such that most of it landed in a glob on the table, before tucking the cloth back in his pocket.

‘You haven’t even asked me once what this is about. You have a big guilty sign hanging from your neck,’ Danny confirmed.

‘I don’t need to fucking know, seeing as I have done nothing wrong.’

‘If you insist on making this as difficult as possible, fine,’ Danny rolled his sleeves up and let a lazy menacing smile curl his lips up, and noted how Wai moved minutely away from Danny, the sound of his chair scraping against the concrete loud enough to shatter glass in the dingy room (not that it did), but his face remained angry, as if fighting back was such a natural instinct for him.

‘You lay one fucking finger on me,’ he all but shouted, ‘and I will pull the shit down on you so fast that you will have nowhere to hide.’

Danny raised an eyebrow, ‘how, you’re bound up in that chair, with no where to go except forward,’ he pushed his chair back slowly, savouring the way the wood scraped the concrete with as much delicacy as nails on a blackboard, and made a show of turning his face to the two way mirror, and barking out in a authoritative voice.

‘Turn off the cameras,’ his face twisted into a truly sadistic smile, ‘I think I hear his lawyer coming.’

‘What the fuck is he doing? I mean this is-’ Kono started, her eyes wide like saucers and fixed unblinkingly on the scene before them all.

‘-full immunity and means right?’ Steve quipped from the corner.

‘That’s what the Governor said,’ Chin turned around to look at Steve, who chuckled.

‘Yeah.’

Chin opened the two-way communication link, it buzzed briefly before stirring to life.

‘Video surveillance turned off,’ he spoke calmly into the mouthpiece, but made no movement to actually turn it off.

Eight sets of eyes watched Danny turned back to look at Wai, who everyone could clearly see was trying to break free from the handcuffs as the age old fight-or-flight question loomed in his mind.

Danny’s face broke out into a feral grin as he braced his hands on the wooden table and slowly hauled himself onto his feet, ignoring the pain radiating dully from lack of movement from his bum knee, ‘you’re not exactly in a good position to be making threats.’

He cracked his knuckles, and watched with clamped down glee how Wai Leung used his long legs to push his set away from the table, away from Danny as quickly as possible such that the chair skidded on the floor and he tumbled out of it, landing on his side. Within a beat he hand pushed himself into the corner of the room farthest from Danny, and for the first time since they stepped into this, Danny could smell the fear radiating off Wai’s body and took a few moments to gaze at Wai, who was cowering in the corner now, his breath coming out rash and ragged, like claps of thunder in the otherwise pinpoint silence of the room, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide and open. Every expression and feeling clear on his face.

Clearly the flight instinct had won.

Sensing victory, Danny spoke aloud, ‘I am very glad that you chose to do things this way,’ and the feral grin got wider, reducing his eyes to narrow slits.

He had closed half the space between them, each step reverberating loudly in the room, a reminder that Danny was getting closer and closer and that Wai was getting closer and closer to having the shit pummelled out of him, did the string snap, the twig got broken, whatever.

‘Okay! OKAY! I’LL GIVE YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST GET HIM AWAY FROM ME, GET HIM AWAY!’ He continued to sob brokenly (Danny scoffed at how fucking undignified that was) as the door burst open, and 2 officers stepped into the room, and hauled his ass off the ground and back onto the chair. Chin glided through the door, a grin plastered onto his face.

He clapped Danny on the back, ‘good job, _bruddah_. Let me handle the rest?’

Danny blew out a breath, and ran a hand through his hair, laughing ‘yeah, I need to wash my face as well.’

***

Steve and Danny sat on the sofa in Danny’s office, Steve looking on with an amused expression, pizza clutched in hand as Danny stared down at the slice of pineapple pizza on the plate, as if through sheer determination he could make the small yellow triangles disappear (his cheeks were still rosy because he had scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed at it until he was sure there was no spit left on it, it had nothing to do with the way Steve’s thigh was pressed firmly against his as they sat on the sofa together, nothing to do with that at all).

‘You know, whilst you may know your way around an interrogation room,’ Steve mumbled around a mouthful of pineapple pizza, ‘you’re no David Copperfield.’

‘Oh really,’ Danny muttered, ‘fucking figures, and here I thought everyone caught my show at Atlantic City because of my magical _vanishing_ act.’

Steve made a show at peering down at the slice of pizza, completely untouched ‘well, I’m completely spellbound, you’re really working your magic there.’

‘Shut up.’

Steve made a second show of shoving the remainder of his slice into his mouth, his eyelashes fluttering closed, an expression of pure contentment and pleasure on his face as he chewed, clearly savouring the taste before swallowing, and bringing his fingers up to lick at the crumbs and sauce on them in a frankly quite indecent manner, his tongue darting out to roll up the tips of his fingers, even sucking on them briefly, the soft slurping sounds playing havoc with Danny’s imagination. Not to mention sounding obscenely loud in the otherwise silent office.

Danny felt his mouth go dry and his eyes widen.

Steve reopened his eyes, gazing intently at Danny, ‘see? It’s not so bad. Why don’t you try it yourself?’ he picked up the plate in front of Danny and held it out in front of him.

With a sigh of defeat, Danny looked at the thing with a steely resolve, grabbed the slice by the crust, his face contorted into a quite off-putting grimace, and with the same sort of air as a man walking the plank about to go off into his own execution, he put the tip of the pizza between his lips and clamped down automatically, wincing as the juicy pineapple squirted sourness into his mouth, melding with the salty crunch of the ham and the tartness of the tomato.

Steve’s eyes never left Danny’s face instead stared fixedly as Danny methodically chewed, and a soft pink tongue darted out of his mouth to swipe at the crumbs and sauce at the corners of his mouth.

His eyes widened, ‘so?’ he made arms movements to encourage Danny to say something.

He smacked his lips together, ‘er, it’s passable,’ and put the empty plate back onto the table. He then turned around the sofa to look Steve in the eye, draping an arm off the side of the back of the sofa and bracing his other hand on his knee, practically oozing relaxation.

‘See?’ Steve ploughed on, ‘it didn’t kill you. That wasn’t so bad, was it?’

His brow furrowed deep in thought, a few beats of silence passed between them, before Danny’s face broke out into a grin.

‘I could definitely adapt to it,’ he spoke slowly, his voice getting softer as he went on, ‘but in my heart will there ever only be pepperoni,’ by this stage, his grin has morphed into an indulgent smile.

‘There’s hope for us, after all,’ Steve chuckled, matching Danny’s smile.

‘Nothing will ever replace pepperoni,’ Danny mused jokingly, ‘millions of people can’t be wrong, eh?’

As soon as the words were out of his mouth tension ratcheted up in the office again, and there was a sense of expectation in the air, Danny found himself pulling in a sharp breath. Steve’s body language changed from languidly relaxed to something more intense, rigid as if a spring had just been loaded, waiting to be released, and he fixed Danny with an unwavering gaze.

A few beats of silence passed. 

‘It doesn’t matter,’ the look on Steve’s face could only be described as intense by now, the strangeness bellied by the odd-nature of his tone of voice as well as his eyes, oddly bright in the office light, and Danny found himself wondering ‘only what you think counts.’

Danny couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but he had a feeling that they were teetering on some sort of invisible line, actually, the very same invisible line that they had come perilously close to crossing that day, in this very office, where they had just met and Steve had broken into his apartment (for the very first time) and bought him chicken soup.

‘Don’t push me McGarrett,’ Danny groused, making an effort to sound put upon, ‘there are only so many things a man is willing to adapt to, and hey, don’t look at me like that,’ as Steve fixed him with what could only be a hamster version of Aneurysm Face.

And just like that, the line was avoided yet again, and the atmosphere became relaxed once again, no longer tense but just comfortable, the same sort of comfortable that came with years and years of knowing each other, of common life experiences and countless hours of fun together.

Danny found himself wandering, _when did it get to this point?_

Steve raised an eyebrow, ‘why, doesn’t someone have a huge opinion of himself.’

Before Danny could get another word in, could tell Steve to shut the fuck up and maybe get a jib in about how many hours he must spend working polishing his guns (the very sentence sounding stupid to him, even in his own brain), the Governor walked into the office, and froze at the sight of them.

Feeling a bit like he had been caught with his hand down the proverbial cookie jar, Danny merely swung around and rearranged himself to look moderately presentable (it wasn’t like he had been caught making out or anything) and out of the corner of his eyes he could see Steve withdrawing his long leg off the coffee table and folding his hands on his lap, plastering the same sort of smarmy grin on his face that was designed to charm the pants off women, young and old.

But Jameson was having none of that, her voice as cold as the arctic winds off Antarctica, ‘excuse me, Dr McGarrett, would you mind leaving us for a few moments?’

The absence of the word ‘please’ had Danny’s alarms bells ringing, an ominous portent of the fact that Jameson was pissed off six ways to Sunday, and determined not to show it. Or well, at least not to anyone but Danny.

He inwardly groaned for the umpteenth time today.

Steve casually replied ‘sure Governor,’ he stood up and picked the two empty plates off the coffee table and sauntered his way past the Governor, their shoulder barely brushing. She fixed him with what could only be a murderous glare.

Danny was finding it a bit hard to focus on anything but the way that Steve’s cargo pants fit tightly across his midriff and the curve of his ass when he walked. He completely missed the way that Jameson’s mouth pressed further into a thin line, her eyes flashing maliciously.

Completely unperturbed, Steve looked at Danny knowingly and merely said, ‘thanks for lunch Danny, I’ll be off to the lab now, and I’ll have that report ready for you by 3 o’clock.’

‘See that you do,’ Jameson snapped back. She fixed her stare back on Danny, who moved to stand up as a fleeting feeling of guilt and shame roiled past him, he imagined that this is what cheating husbands who are caught in the act must feel like, notwithstanding the fact that he had a purely professional relationship with this woman. But common sense mercifully decided to kick in at that moment, and he reminded himself that he had nothing to fear, because he hadn’t done anything wrong. Hell, she should be happy that they had had their very first break on this case.

Standing up a bit more proudly, he waved his hands for her to take a seat at his desk, and ambled over to take his seat. As she walked past him he caught the scent of heavy floral perfume, which smelt suspiciously like _Obsession by Calvin Klein._ Oh shit. 

‘Thank you governor for coming to see me,’ he smiled cordially, ‘what do I owe for this sudden visit,’ and felt the bottom drop from his stomach for the second time that day.

Sitting opposite him, was a much younger, more beautiful looking Governor, and Danny could see just how as a politician she would use those wily charms to her advantage, and whilst they would work on most warm-blooded living breathing men, they had absolutely zero effect on Danny, who sighed. Sure, she had caked on the makeup, just the same as any other old day, but she had lined her eyes with dark kohl, giving them that smouldering mysterious look that often got men to think with their dicks rather than their brains, done something such that her eyelashes fanned out from her eyelids suggestively (they must be fake, no way they could be real) and her lips were painted a colour just shy of peachy pink, making them look plumper, fuller.

 _Kissable._

More than that, she was wearing her standard suit jacket, Danny took comfort in that, but the ostentatious proper white shirt had been replaced with a barely there top (which Danny couldn’t even see properly) as it was a soft muted pink with a plunging neckline which showcased her rather ample chest. Danny could only guess that the fuck-me-dead heels would also be there, would only be back with a vengeance.

Danny stared, and hoped to God that his mouth was not gaping. Taking his silence and his staring as some sort of lust-filled primal reaction, Jameson’s hard gaze dissipated only to be replaced with a sultry look, and she made a show of standing up and walking to the door, and closing it with a snap. The click of the lock as she locked the door reverberated way too loudly, and Danny’s mouth went dry in horror and panic as she bent over the lock, twisting it and turning it with her clawed hands (they were peachy pink too) and her already short skirt rode up her thin, long legs (no stockings today), so far that he could see red lace peaking from under the grey skirt as it rounded the swell of her ass.

Danny in the midst of being completely mind boggled was still with it enough to realise that a) he should be turned on as holy fuck right now, seeing as it wasn’t everyday that a woman like Jameson wandered into your office like this screaming to be fucked and b) he was not turned on at all. b) scared him the most, and he found himself thinking of how it was possible to choke on the wafts of perfume coming off her body in rivets, how she would feel too soft and warm under his hands, how all that makeup and stuff would get smeared on clothes and the lipstick would be damned hard to remove once it landed on cotton (the years of marriage experience speaking right there), how once he walked out from this room it would be clear as day to everyone and anyone that she had claimed him, for that cloying perfume would linger for ages and soon enough he found that he had catalogued a long list of reasons why this would be wrong, the top one being that she was his boss, and office romances always ended badly. Usually with one person fired, and that clashed with Danny’s deeply imbedded self-preservation instincts.

Instead, he found himself wanting the soft clean scent of the ocean, of countless salty beads of water running down cheeks, of something like wood, clean and with a hint of citrus. He wanted strong firm hands and understanding, as gentle as the tide that rolls into the shore. He wanted soft sweet smiles and warm fingers on calloused hands pressed against his skin. He craved compassion, he craved it like how a person craves air, no way around it.

He craved.

He _wanted_ …

Steve.

And in that moment, he knew that this was all wrong, that he had to stop Jameson, before they both did something really stupid and regrettable. He wanted to run away, but there was nowhere to go but forward, and he could only press his back further into his chair his legs refusing to cooperate. He wanted to say something, but his mouth was completely dry and his throat clicked as he swallowed, no sound coming out at all except for his hitched breathing.

She was halfway across the office now, her heels clacking loudly on the tile (how could he have missed this, they were loud enough to wake the dead) and her eyes were fixed on him, a predatory look in them, and Danny felt his heart racing, thrumming against his chest in fear, and he racked his brain for anyway to stop this.

Anyway at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, so I should or should not be studying for my mid-term exam, and I got a fair chunk of it done (thank God I took Extension 2 Maths in High School) so here I am with the next chapter, which I think moves things along rather nicely, don't you think? I'm also feeling sorry for Danny, I've been torturing him for the duration of this fic, and he is most definitely sulking at me right now. but I'm sure you guys can tell that things are starting to look up for him now :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please remember to comment/kudos if you haven't do so, so far!
> 
> Much love.


	13. The Point of No Return - Part I

Jameson had just reached the arm of the chair directly opposite Danny her eyes fixed on him the same way a cat might in front of a very fat, plump juicy mouse. A heavily sweating, panicking mouse who was resisting the strong flight impulse because to do so would cause irreparable damage to his career prospects, and also, he may never live this down if any of the officers down at HPD got wind of word that he had Jameson in his lap, _begging_ to be fucked and didn’t do what any sane, red-blooded straight American man would have done notwithstanding the fact that she was married. 

And there was no way he could physical fight her, oh no. She was his boss, and more than that, she was a woman, and that went against every ingrained moral standard that Danny had (he didn’t have a lot of them, but this one was steadfast). 

He cleared his throat and forced out, in a relatively calm voice that in no way shape or form bellied his nervousness, ‘Governor, w-what are you doing?’ 

She stopped her advances and moved to sit back down on the chair, and lean forward toward Danny. Even with the degree of separation between them, his nostrils twitched at the strong cloying perfume, which truth be told gave him quite a headache. 

She blinked slowly, so all Danny could do was grip the armrest in his chair a little bit tighter, to the point that his knuckles turned white. She smiled a smile that would have otherwise been very effective, fully showcasing her dimples and full lips, and Danny found his heartbeat receding, somewhat, but still fast enough to cause worry, and tell someone that things were far from fine. 

‘I know you lied to me that day, Detective,’ she murmured softly, and then did that peering through her eyelashes thing, ‘I can’t say I’m very happy, but I’m willing to forgo it, just this once.’ 

Danny had a habit of babbling on the verge of incoherency when he was either fucking nervous, or shit scared, this was a situation where he has both, and who was to deny him his babbling rights? He brought a hand up to wipe at his brow, and had to clamp down with an iron resolve on the fear so that his bloody hand would stop shaking, so that it would appear like he was nonchalantly wiping sweat off his brow, like it was normal, considering the fact that he walked around the perpetual Hawaiian summers in long sleeve shirts. Not to mention ties as well. Yes, that was it. 

‘Oh, did I? I don’t recall though. About what? I don’t lie very much, it’s a terrible Williams’ family trait, we can’t say anything except for the cold hard truth, it’s in our very _genes_ -’ 

‘-You’re recently divorced,’ she stated simply, cutting across the babble like a hot knife through butter, gazing deep into his eyes, that feral smile causing her lip to curve upwards. She lent back on the chair, bracing both her arms of the arm rests, her hands coming around to grip the rests, her peachy pink long nails coming to rest curved around the rests, her knuckles white with anticipation. 

Danny’s mind was flying at a million miles an hour as he searched for a polite way to flip her off without being overly mean and bitchy about it. At this stage, something that let him salvage his career would be fucking nice, as he had no intention of going back to the unrelenting mockery he knew would await him back at the HPD. 

And then, like the way a ship comes home after a long voyage at sea (complete with pirates and all), the perfect escape sailed straight into his mind. 

He composed his features into a soft, reproachful expression (as much as he could muster in the current circumstances, anyway) and moved forward, pushing his chair closer to his desk, and then forced his eyes to look down, as if deep in thought, and exhale a harsh breath, which sounded obscenely loud in the otherwise complete silence of the office. 

Jameson turned her face to the side, such that Danny no longer had a full frontal view of her face, and leered at him from the corner of her eyes, no doubt thinking that the act would be playfully coy, but instead it made her look all the more feral and dangerous, and not for the first time that afternoon, did Danny wonder what the fuck had he gotten himself into. 

In his lifetime, Danny had never been the commensurate poker player as every expression of emotion clearly registered on his face (again, Rachel’s laughter resounded in his ears) but he felt that now when he was sitting at the damn proverbial poker table, clutching a pair of trick nines with no fucking idea of what Jameson held in her hand, now would be the time to take a gamble. 

The stakes were high (his job, his reputation, future Police Commissioner position) and he was clearly bankrupt at this stage where the only move forward was to go all the way in, leaving himself at the mercy of chance. Not to mention Jameson’s forgiving nature.  

She instinctively moved closer to him, her lips curled into a satisfied smile, bringing her hands up to the desk and resting them there, clutching them in one another, and Danny reached out with his left hand to cover them, and give them a soft squeeze. He traced his palm across the smooth planes of her hands, dipping and trailing them in all of the ridges and groves between her fingers and sighed. He moved his eyes up from the sight of their mingled hands, and levelled them on the top of her crouched down head, watching the way errant stands of blond stuck up in the humidity of the Hawaiian mid-afternoon. 

Waiting. Waiting for Jameson to have the courage to meet his eyes. 

A few beats of silence passed between them, before she did, and gave him a searching stare, brown eyes seeking out blue, as she probed his eyes, his expression, his face, for something, Danny did not know what, but after what seemed like an eternity she pulled away, pulling her hands away from his before chuckling darkly. 

‘It figures,’ she shook her head.

Danny tried for a soft voice, the same type of voice one might use on a small, lost child to calm them down as they searched for their mother, that type of voice, ‘it wouldn’t be worth it in the end,’ she shook his head, and blue sought out brown for the second time that day. 

They sat there in silence, mutually regarding each other with weariness in the late afternoon sunlight, and Danny tried to look sympathetic, tried to convey without words with a sense of confidence he didn’t feel that this was six ways to Sunday wrong, that it wouldn’t work out, that there were more cons to this thing than there were pros, and only, only after she had recognised them too, had seen the logic behind Danny’s arguments. Only when she could nod her head and smile at him again, the way she did at any other man, the way she did before this mess, then things would be okay. 

They were still on dangerous ground, and Danny wanted to get the fuck away from here as possible.  

Danny could practically see the moment of realisation as Danny had no intention of jumping her any time soon (or anytime ever. Period). The moment that it worked, the moment that her posture became just that little bit stiffer, and awareness shone in her eyes, her mouth parting slightly as it all came crashing down on her, the full weight of the potential disaster they had averted, and with her eyes suspiciously bright, she spoke, in a small voice. 

‘Sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m so _lonely.’_   

Danny gaze melted a bit, becoming compassionate despite the annoyance that simmered beneath the surface, just itching to be released, because what kind of fucked up world did he live in where the leaders were nothing more than spoilt brats on a pedestal? But in the interests of self-preservation, he persevered, ‘you and I both know, that this would be wrong,’ he murmured softly, before extending a hand to cup her face in his hands. 

The tender motion allowed for brown to seek out blue, and their gazes met again, and she was looking at him with a look that spoke volumes about disappointment but there was still a streak of determination, just lingering under all that, which gave Danny plenty of reasons for disquiet. Oh shit. 

‘We could be discreet about it,’ she challenged, ‘no one in the world will be none the wiser.’ 

He shook his head, laughing softly, but instinctively froze when her hand moved up to join him, cradling his hand which was still on her face, her fingers warm and soft over his. He extracted his hand at once. 

Putting all of his faith in the next sentence because if this didn’t work then nothing would, and he was going to take the blunt approach instead, which would not bode well for anyone at all, would leave him out of a job, would let the serial killer continue to murder people who truly deserved it, and that idea didn’t seem so bad at all, but then that would mean no more seeing Steve, and he was conscious of the fact that there would be a Steve-shaped hole in his life, should he lose his job, and that that would leave him feeling empty and void and fucking hollow which was never pleasant- 

‘It will never work,’ he murmured softly, ‘how long will it be before the press finds out?’ heaving a sigh, he continued, ‘think of the scandal that it would create.’

That was it. That was the proverbial slap in the face that Jameson needed to wake up, and with mounting glee and elation and thanking God that she was smart and greedy enough to prioritize career over sating that animal instinct for a torrid tryst, he watched with a blank expression as she shoved the chair backwards and headed towards the door, throwing it open with a bang that resonated way too loudly, and all but ran out of the office.

He allowed himself a few moments to recollect his thoughts as he leaned back on his chair and brought a hand to rub at the stubble on his chin. This afternoon had been one of revelation and self-discovery, and Danny found himself itching for a beer to sip as he mulled over all of these implications, and was just about to get up out of his chair and wander down to the kitchen to get one when his thoughts turned to the promise he had made with himself to stop drinking so that his conversationalist skills could return in full force (not that he was anywhere near the level of drinking to be an alcoholic) against Steve.

 _Steve._

He had to talk to the man, had to see him again, right at this very instant. His fingers itched to run over the slightly rugged, hollow planes that were his cheeks, no doubt having filled out a little bit since he had been sneakily sneaking Danny’s malasadas (he was very tempted to start a tally, counting all the ones that Steve owed him).

Danny longed to pull him close and really do all those things they had been talking about, really take Steve up on his offers of, well, everything, let himself indulge for once in everything that Steve had been offering him, had never stopped offering him, ever since that very first day when they locked eyes on each other and everything else had seemed oh so insignificant, in that dingy alleyway, the rain dripping down their faces as they pressed against each other...

Everything that he had been telling himself that he had been imagining, everything that was not on offer, that he had continuously reminded himself was all in his head (where dreams often melded into reality, and you could never be sure that you were either fully awake or still dreaming)

 _‘Why deny yourself,’_ he found Steve’s words floating back to him, _‘why torture yourself when you could be having fun?’_

The desire to see Steve, curled and twisted and swelled to the point when it was no longer ignorable, when the consistent itching in his fingers got stronger with each passing second and it thrummed throughout Danny’s body in rhythm with his heartbeat, that he found his feet moving, taking them down to the basement where Steve would be waiting for him, would have never stopped waiting for him.

***

Danny’s heart was rattling against his ribcage with each step closer towards the laboratory. He wandered along the corridors quickly, his footsteps echoing loudly against the bare white walls. The hallway was lined with doors, the same standard issue brown shiny wood ones with the small peephole so one could look inside, not that there were many people here for kicks. Beyond the doors he could see men and women crouched over examination tables or else people in white lab coats carrying out their business conducting test on God knows what. In one room people in white lab coats were sequestered around an older man, clearly their instructor as he made wild arm movements, scalpel clutched in hand.

He finally reached the end of the hallway, stopping before another non-descript door, the only concession that this would be an office was the presence of those seemingly ubiquitous potted ferns which usually inhabited vaunted places in office space. Not to mention the small gold-plated plaque on the door which read in small block letters ‘DR S McGARRETT.’

He rapped on the door smartly, once twice, and stood waiting for the door to swing open, for that smooth voice to invite him, to see that stupidly handsome face, those hazel eyes crinkled in delight and gladness, like how they always do, those lips curved into an indulgent smile, warm and caring as-

There was a tiny noise behind him, almost like that of someone clearing their throat. Danny spun around, and came face to face with the very same lab assistant who had crouched side by side with Steve on that terrible day out on the sugar cane field. He felt a familiar rage boil up inside him at the memory.

‘You won’t find Dr McGarrett in there, I’m afraid,’ the assistant mumbled out. Danny could see that he was scared, as the clipboard held in his hand was clutched just that bit tighter, and the kid’s face, which was already pale, was rapidly draining in colour and soon reached the colour of milk. He had to give the kid credit though, he was not shaking or trembling at all.

Danny raised an eyebrow, ‘okay, where can I find him?’

The kid shook his head, ‘I can’t tell you, sir.’

‘Tell me,’ Danny ordered.

‘I honestly don’t know, sir. Really I don’t,’ his speech was getting faster and faster, and his voice wobbled a bit as he went on, ‘I was supposed to come by his office today to give him the results of these tests,’ he indicated to the clipboard and the sheaf of papers in his hands, ‘but as I was standing where you are, he stormed out, he was clearly bothered about something.’

‘And he just left like that, without a word?’

The kid nodded, ‘yes, sir.’

Before the kid could say anything else, Danny had already pushed past him, and was heading back, where he got into the Camaro and drove out like a bat out of hell away from there, pulling a leaf out of Steve’s book and driving like he was in a drag race from _The Fast and the Furious,_ tyres screeching on the bitumen of the road.

Danny didn’t know how Steve was going to react, but he would have been completely blind to the way that obviously seeing Jameson tarted up like that, clearly flirting with him would make Steve upset.

Which would indicate that on Steve’s part, there had to be something deeper there to trigger this ridiculous level of jealousy. Something that looked a lot, sounded a bit, that may be actual feelings, or feeling-like things.

 _Jealousy._

 _Steve was jealous._

Danny’s heart hammered harder, just a little at that.

***

He sat there, outside the weathered façade of Steve’s house cooling his heels as he thought about his next plan of action. He had brought over beer and another pizza (wholly pineapple, oh my God) and up until right now he had given no thought to it, had acted on pure instinct, which had so far led him to this point in time.

The sun was rapidly setting now, the warm orange of the afternoon dissipating, fading out into a dark blue, and in the distance he could hear the cries of a gaggle of seagulls as they flew over the beach and the gentle ebb and flow of the ocean.

He finally decided on a course of action.

He was going to play it cool. _Cool interest._

With nervous butterflies fluttering around his stomach and a lump in his throat the size of Scotland, he precariously balanced the pizza and six-pack in his arms, and walked up to the gate, pausing just a moment to take in the sight of the old weathervane perched on the roof, and those horrid brown, orange and red curtains fluttering lazily as the night-time wind whooshed past them. He had just taken a step inside the front gate when the door opened, spilling warm orangey light onto the pavement when he looked up and caught sight of Danny, pizza and all, and halted in his tracks.

The man was in his early to late fifties, the hair around his temples lightening to a dull silver from their original dark brown, years of island living having softened the sharp edges of his jaw and rounded him out a bit, such that the Hawaiian shirt he was in fit rather comfortably. The man’s crease worn face studied Danny, those familiar hazel eyes squinting out into the darkness.

 _This must be his Dad,_ Danny mused; _those two have the same cock-sure air around them, not to mention the whole tall, dark and handsome thing happening. He froze mid-thought._

Handsome?

Fuck.

‘Who are you?’ he called out to Danny. 

‘I’m Danny,’ he found himself answering back, ‘is Steven home?’ 

The man crossed his arms, and regarded Danny with what could only be described as an assessing stare. 

‘He’s in there alright,’ the man muttered, ‘seems to have worked himself into a snit over nothing again.’ 

He then proceeded to push past Danny, spilling out into the street. Danny could only watch as his footfalls got more and more quiet, and he blended into the darkness. 

Danny walked up the rest of the pathway, stepping up onto the porch, the old wood sagging and creaking with each step. He reached the door and pushed it open a bit further, and walked inside. 

Light radiated from the lone lamp on the corner table and the television. Steve was sitting on the sofa, the very same one he and Danny had sat together on that awful day, in practically the same spot. His hand was resting on the armrest, propping up his chin as he stared fixedly onto the television scene on which the night-time news was playing some sensationalist drivel about how the serial killer had a cult following among legions of the young, complete with a snooty old professor blowing smoke up everyone’s asses about the age old good vs. evil argument. 

Danny snorted. 

There was even a half-drunk beer bottle sitting in front of him. Steve gave off the impression of just settling down in front of the telly for a quiet evening, feet stretched put on the coffee table in front, but Danny knew better. 

For a fact, the way Steve held himself was rather stiff, and Steve’s mind was clearly somewhere else, as his eyes had glazed over slightly, clearly deep in thought. 

Danny wondered when he had become so adept at reading the other man.

He cleared his throat, ‘hey Steve.’

Steve turned around to look at him, levelling his hazel gaze onto Danny. A curious feeling stole over him, not quite unlike being inside an x-ray machine.

Danny gulped, his throat going dry.

‘Hey Danny,’ Steve replied coolly, and Danny felt rather sad that he had said ‘Danny’ instead of ‘Danno.’

For all that the may have complained and ranted and bitched and moaned about it, he had gotten used to it, and keenly felt its absence, and for the first time in quite awhile, Danny felt unsure, uncertain about how to move forward.

He stood there, in hand with the cooling pizza and the beers which were dripping condensation onto the old multicoloured rug (obviously from the 1970s as well) which had probably not seen water for over 40 years if the age of the rug was an indication. His heart had not stopped racing since that afternoon, and he felt excited and nervous at the same time, standing here like this.

Steve stood up and moved past him to the window, where he proceeded to push the windows up just a little bit higher to let more air into the already airy space, before catching sight of the pizza and beers. He wordlessly shuffled into the kitchen, scratching the back of his head and two minutes later he re-emerged with two white plates, and placed them on the coffee table. Danny moved around the coffee table, so he was sitting next to Steve, close but not quite touching, and unloaded the beers and pizza. The clattering of the plates and beers on the table sounded stiflingly loud, despite the low hum of the television.

They sat together like this, in this tableau, each person not saying anything as they munched on the pineapple pizza (not quite as good as the ones Steve got, but it got the job done) with Danny having barely touched his beer. The silence between them weighed heavily, the absence of the former cheerful and playful bantering between them obvious like an amputated limb, lingering.

The pizza was halfway done when Danny broke the silence.

‘I went by your office today,’ Danny spoke aloud before taking a swing of beer, ‘you weren’t in.’

‘I had a few things I needed to take care of,’ Steve’s voice was clipped, cold even.

‘You promised to have that report ready for me by 3, I still haven’t gotten it yet.’

‘You’ll get it by tomorrow. You have my word,’ sharp, brisk, the voice was designed to completely kill backtalk, but Danny was feeling rather loose and limber, probably from the beer he had swilled in the past half an hour.

He pushed on.

‘You gave me your word that I would have it by this afternoon,’ Danny continued, pretending not to notice the way the tension in the room ratcheted up several notches, if the rigidity of Steve’s stance and the furrowing of his brow was anything to go by, ‘you didn’t. You didn’t honour your word.’

Within a flash Steve had grasped his shoulders, the points of pressure where he clutched Danny’s arms feeling burning hot, hot enough to blister (but welcome all the same) and spun Danny around to face him, as he turned towards Danny, his eyes fixed on Danny in what could only be described as an intense gaze. 

Danny felt his breath hitch at the intensity that lurked behind those hazel depths, where Danny was sure that a plethora of dark desires, of passion, of neediness, of _loneliness_ lurked just beyond reach. Not far enough to be forgotten, but not near enough to sting like a fresh deep cut. 

‘What do you want from me, Danny?’ he asked, his voice having dropped so low that it was barely heard above the constant drone of the television. The darkness of the night had full settled in by this stage, and their faces where illuminated by the silvery glow of the television, but with the way they were sitting, half of Steve’s face was obscured in shadow. He looked very dangerous at this point, like he was teetering on some sort of line, the tension so tight in the string that it could snap at any given moment. 

Feeling rather reckless, feeling like he wanted that string to snap so that the darkness lurking underneath that cheerful façade could be brought be brought forward into the light after an eternity being hidden and deeply repressed, he looked Steve in the eye and said demandingly: 

‘I want you to kiss me.’

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter, I should get Part II up sometime tomorrow. Finally, we're getting somewhere :)
> 
> Tell me what you think in a comment. Pretty please with sugar on top?
> 
> If you kudos me, I will love you forever in return.


	14. The Point of No Return - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm adding variety and doing my usual Notes at the top today, rather than the bottom because variety is the spice of life, right?
> 
> So this is where things get hot and heavy between Steve and Danny, and 4,500 words later they're still crazily attracted to each other, and Danny is no better clued into the fact that he's fallen in love with the serial killer who he is supposed to be chasing.
> 
> Enjoy!

_‘I want you to kiss me.’  
_

There was a beat’s pause, a beat where he seriously thought that he had overplayed this one, had pushed everything that had been on offer away too quickly, too stupidly (such was his life) and found himself feeling adrift like he was lost at sea in a lifejacket, stranded here, with no backup plan and no hope of emerging from all of this with his dignity in tact, no way that he could salvage their working relationship, the dark thought crippling any hope of any sort of hap-

Then the string snapped, the twig broke, whatever.

The last words that Danny heard from the television were ‘degenerate sub-culture’ as he abruptly found himself bowled over, pushed roughly so that he fell backwards on the sofa, his head hitting the armrest with a muted thud that was hard enough to be considered painful, but he found that he didn’t give a flying fuck, honestly as Steve proceeded to literally kiss him _breathless,_ his mouth tasting faintly of something distinctive to Steve, spicy in nature, beer and pineapple.

But Danny was a big man with a gracious nature, and he was willing to overlook it, just this once.

Warm hands which felt way too hot, hot enough to cause his skin to blister and burn wherever they touched, snaked their way around him coming to grab fistfuls of Danny’s shirt, a grip tight enough to leave the material in wrinkled, sweaty messes, knuckles bright white. Danny answered by bringing his arms up to wrap themselves around Steve’s neck, all the better to pull all that warm weight atop of him, the way one might pull a blanket over themselves to ward of the steady chill of the night time air, not that you got many of those here in Hawaii.

Danny liked to think that he was a commensurate kisser, that he had had his fair share of good kisses (plump moist lips and brown hair tickling the sides of his face as he angled his mouth) and down right sloppy ones which held a special place in his memory just because they were oh so bad (teeth bumping into each other as they groped in the darkness of his parents’ Cadillac after the prom) but he had never been kissed like this, and kissed breathless took on a whole new different meaning.

This was beyond anything that Danny had imagined it would be. Heads above the rest and all of that. Steve’s lips were dry and warm, thinner than any set he had previously kissed. There was stubble, which created a rough friction against his cheeks and he could feel the soft flutter of those damn long, completely natural eyelashes against him, Steve’s body heat seeping right down into his very bones. This kiss was fiercer and meaner than any he had had, and the way that Steve was arching over him, long leg coming to rest in the part between Danny’s legs, his torso pressed deliciously flush against Danny’s as they kissed as if their lives depended on it, desperation and fear and desire all laid bare in front of them.

Steve was being a downright greedy bastard of the first order, but Danny didn’t mind.

During all of this, Danny learnt something about Steve that caused his heart to pound furiously against his chest as the blood rushed in his ears, loud enough that he was sure Steve could hear him.

Steve never did anything in halves, period, and that was a good thing, given the current circumstances.

With the first part of Danny’s lips his moan of pleasure was stoppered before it even came out, and Steve took the chance to shove his tongue into Danny’s mouth like there was no tomorrow, very well like as if he would die if he didn’t and for the first time in Danny’s thirty something years of existence-

-He surrendered, wholly and unconditionally. 

Steve was plundering his mouth now, being a bit of a bossy demanding bastard about it and definitely very mean with the teeth such that Danny would be very surprised if he woke up tomorrow and there were no bruises and bite marks on his swollen lips, but this was all so glorious and wonderful (fuck that word _again_ ) that he found that he really didn’t care, and that his world was narrowed down, so that everything else around him was just white noise, except for the way Steve felt on top of him, the way his back pressed deeper and deeper into the sagging cushions of the sofa as Steve moved on top of him, unconsciously rocking his lean torso against Danny, the way Steve was kissing him like his life depended on this with this level of urgency and pleading and desire and want and lust-

The way the world narrowed down, until it was just him and Steve.

They eventually broke apart for air when the need could no longer be put off, panting wildly, their combined breathing sounding obscenely loud in the room. Danny looked up at Steve through eyes half-lidded in pleasure as he willed his breathing to return to a modicum of normalcy.

Steve looked every bit as unhinged as Danny imagined he himself must look at this very moment. He breathing came out in rush staccato breaths, his cheeks were flushed, his lips were swollen and wet as sweat dotted his brow, but the thing that caught Danny’s attention the most was Steve’s eyes.

They shone with the suspect glint of desire, yet they were also unguarded, and Danny saw the _vulnerability_ lurking there, and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but it made his breath hitch, just that little bit further as it all came crashing down around him, and he felt his heart break at the overwhelming tide of emotion that churned past the floodgates, which were wide open by now.

Like how maybe Steve thought that this was all he was ever going to get, that Danny was so far out of his reach, and nothing that he was going to do would be able to change it, not one bit, and here he was, a pauper taking everything little damn thing that he could, taking it greedily, hungrily as if it were his last chance.

 _His only chance._

Something in Danny broke at the inherent note of _loneliness_ there.

At first, Danny resisted the crazy urge to raise his hands and cup Steve’s face in his hands, but then again he tossed all caution to the winds and his handed singed with pleasure, the points of contact with Steve’s skin thrumming with pleasure and he let himself sigh, savouring the way how it just felt so goddamn _right_ to be under Steve, like this.  

If possible, Steve leaned in, just that bit further into the touch, his eyes still fixed on some point just to the left of Danny’s head, head bent down, as if he couldn’t bring himself to meet Danny’s gaze.

‘Babe,’ the endearment slipping out of his mouth softly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be saying (which it very well could be), and that was all it took for hazel to lock onto blue, ‘I have no intention of going anywhere, anytime soon.’

During the course of their romp on the sofa, one of them must have knocked the remote control to the television onto the floor, for the television screen stared back blankly at them. Danny could hear the soft sounds of the wind rushing past the leaves in the garden, could hear the way the seagulls had obviously flown away, bathing them all with the gentle sounds of the ocean as it came up to hug the shore, before retreating away again. They were half-hidden in the darkness, the dull lamplight casting shadows over everything, from the planes of Steve’s chest to the countless creases of their rumpled clothing.

They stayed in this tableau, with Steve pressed on top of Danny, his face held between Danny’s comforting hands, peering at each other before something seemed to click in Steve’s mind and that look of desperation and vulnerability that had etched Steve’s features washed away, only to be replaced with a truly devious grin whilst his eyes glimmered with the promises of all the things that he was going to be doing to Danny through the course of the night, which was still rather young, to be honest, and Danny found his breath hitching, just that little bit more and relief settled back down into his bones.

Everything was going to be all right, and Danny was glad.

‘As much as I’d love to keep you here like this,’ that lilt that Danny had missed so much creeping back into Steve’s voice, so confident and _Steve_ that it had Danny’s heart tightening at just how much he did miss it as Steve ran a playful finger along the side of Danny’s face, all the way down his neck before settling just where his heart would be, tapping softly ‘I don’t think my Dad would appreciate this at all,’ and actually laughed at that, he removed the finger and a good natured laugh blossomed as he ran his hand through his hair.

Danny regarded him with what could only be a long-suffering expression, which in turn caused Steve to lean down and kiss him again, just the soft brush of lips against each other, none of the fierce desire and pleading and desperation of before, as their lips parted, their tongues twining, dancing around each other as Danny’s hands sneaked up to twist themselves in Steve’s hair and draw Steve closer to him.

Danny would have wanted to stay like this forever, the words of that stupid Whitney Houston song echoing in his ears, but then his mind drove him to distraction, imagining all the sort of things that that skilled mouth could be doing to him right now, now that nothing was stopping them, what it would feel like to have Steve’s long, lean _naked_ body sliding against his, all the sounds that he was looking forward to dragging out of Steve as he drove him closer and closer and closer-

‘Mmmm,’ Danny half murmured, half mumbled by the way Steve’s tongue was stroking against his, ‘you may have a point there.’

As one, they got up off the sofa, ignoring the half eaten pizza slowly cooling in the humid Hawaiian night, knocking Steve’s empty beer bottle onto the ground with a dull thud and it rolled underneath the sofa, as they clutched and clawed at one another with a sort of earnest desperation, nowhere near in intensity as before but with a very different kind of hunger, one that pizza would not be able to sate at all.

Danny let himself be led up the stairs, with Steve grasping at Danny’s tie for dear life, yanking at him as he bit and nibbled and sucked a wet trail from Danny’s lips all the down to the soft skin that just peaked above Danny’s shirt collar, kissing the skin there, which was rapidly flushing. They were almost at the top when Danny growled, low in his throat, a wonderful sound that was music to Steve’s ears. .

‘You wreck this tie,’ he muttered, ‘and I will _really_ rip your dick off.’

It was kind of hard to stay angry at Steve, and that goddamn mouth of his which had made its way back up and was currently latched onto Danny’s right ear, where Steve chuckled, his deep voice sending shivers ghosting along Danny’s back as he blew hot, obscene breaths into Danny’s ear.

‘I look forward to seeing you try,’ and gave the tie another deliberate tug, so much so that Danny found himself pulled up the rest of the way up the stairs, and they grabbed at each other, Steve’s hand still fixed on the tie as his other hand moved to unbutton Danny’s shirt, and Danny’s hands came up to push the soft cotton of Steve’s black shirt away from the collar bone to rub circles along the smooth expanse of hot skin there.

But old habits die hard, and Danny found himself bitching between strangled breaths, ‘this is my favourite tie, see, Gracie gave it to me for Father’s day,’ and fixed Steve with what could only be regarded as a pissed expression, ‘I am being serious here, McGarrett, should anything happen to it, should in the light of day I find a fucking thread dangling from it, or tiny crease or tear in this delicate silk, so help me God, I will-’

He never got to finish whatever he was going to say next, as he soon found himself with a hot, wet mouthful of Steve, and decided that this was one of the nicer, more pleasant ways of being told to shut up, and didn’t mind it at all as all thoughts of ties were abruptly swept out of his head.

When they broke apart, Danny’s back was pressed against the cool grain of a wooden door, the round knob digging annoyingly into one side of Danny’s back. Steve looked at him with a warm, open, borderline _goofy_ smile, and all anger dissipated as quickly as it had gathered there, Steve’s eyes twinkling with mirth in the muted streetlight which managed to filter into the darkness past the curtains.

‘I promise to treat it with all the respect due to it’ Steve murmured as he pressed himself into Danny’s neck, finally letting go of the tie so that he could deeply breath in the scent that was unique to Danny and reach out to grasp the doorknob and twist it, pulling it open, his other arm snaking forward to prevent Danny from falling backwards on his arse onto the floor. But loose enough that Danny still managed to fall backwards, his ass colliding with the hard cold slippery ledge.

Slippery?

Steve let go of Danny at that moment, and walked over to the doorway where he turned on the light. And Danny blinked as his vision readjusted to the brightness, and found himself sitting in the bathroom, on the cold ledge of the bathtub.

Danny allowed himself a few moments to drink in the sight of Steve like this, his shirt half dangling off his shoulder, his hair tousled and sticking up slightly at the back, his lips parted, exhaling softly, his eyes fixed on Danny with all that pent up hunger (at this stage there is no need to mention the obvious bulge at the front of his pants).

‘Um, I could totally be off the bat with this,’ Danny spoke after a few moments, ‘but I was expecting this to be moving into the bedroom,’ he raised an eyebrow, ‘er, nice bathtub, I guess’ as an afterthought.

Steve laughed at him, and Danny could feel the stirrings of anger, but they were overridden by feelings of something that resembled fondness, causing his heart to jump up and lodge painfully against his throat, and nervousness stole over him.

 _What was Steve up to?_

‘Too true Danno,’ he murmured, after what seemed like an eternity, at least to Danny anyway, ‘but first, let’s get you cleaned up.’ He bent down, and was halfway through tugging the sock off Danny’s foot and throwing it on top of Danny shoes when he interrupted.

‘Okay, this is too surreal. I’ll have you know, not everyone can go through the day looking fucking perfect like they just walked out of their house at ten o’clock at night, the dirt of the day gets to you, the sand, the fucking sand, those damn fine grains of sand get everywhere even though you’re no where near a fucking beach, from your hair to your shoes, everywhere, and make you itch, piss you off, and there’s no escape from all that fucking _sand_ -’

‘-I want to get that woman’s scent off you,’ Steve cut across the babble as he approached Danny, and crouched down so that he was squarely between Danny’s stretched out legs, fitting snugly against the vee, ‘I’ve been able to ignore it so far, but honestly, you _reek_.’

‘Fuck you.’

Steve shook his head, ‘no, let me.’

He proceeded to carefully unravel Danny’s tie and delicately placed it on the clothes rack just under where the towels were hanging, before resuming the half finished job on his buttons, each of them coming lose with a soft popping sound and Danny’s breath hitched in excitement as the soft cotton of his white shirt was parted, baring his chest to the warm evening air as Steve tugged the material down his arms and it slithered all the way down, Steve tugging the shirt off his arms and throwing it on the edge of the bathtub as Danny worked on grasping the hem of Steve’s black shirt and pulling it upwards, over his head, bunching it and throwing it into a pile in the bathtub.

Steve’s nimble hands had started on Danny’s belt and in the corner of his mind he registered the sound of the belt clacking on the floor, but all he could focus on was the way Steve’s hand ghosted touches along the front of his pants, lingering at the bulge straining against the tight fabric there, _teasing_ him, as he popped the button and expertly pulled the zipper down, clearly savouring the moment as Danny sighed as the pressure around his growing erection was relieved.

‘As much as I’d like to return the favour,’ Danny quipped sassily, raising an eyebrow as he stared at Steve’s cargo pants, ‘your position makes it a bit difficult,’ he put his hands on Steve’s shoulders anticipation zinging through his veins as he waited.

Steve smiled languidly back at him, clearly in for the long haul, ‘let me make it easier for you,’ he breathed and stood up, bringing Danny up with him, and reached down with one hand, bracing his other one on Danny’s shoulder and in one fluid movement pulled off both his briefs and boxers, so that he was gloriously naked, and better than anything Danny had imagined.

As he bent over to extract his legs from his pants, Danny could see every ripple of muscle, every sinew as it flexed and stretched as Steve bent his lithe form over, practically radiating heat into the open air, he could see the whorls of ink on Steve’s arm and Danny found himself admiring Steve the same way a museum curator might admire a finely painted painting.

However all thoughts of paintings and museums were driven out of his mind as soon as Steve straightened up and Danny’s eyes latched onto Steve’s cock, which was half-hard and the colour of ripe peach, the most marvellous thing Danny had seen today, and he licked his lips in anticipation. It was jutting out of Steve’s body in an elegant arch (if you could call it that), not quite angry, but almost there. Thickening and lengthening with each passing second that Danny was staring at it.

He would have kept staring at it, could very well have ended up spending the night entertaining thoughts of what it would feel like in his hand, a sort of hot, heavy twitching thing that settled nicely in his hand, and his hands actually _itched_ to touch it, but Steve broke through to him by pulling his boxers and briefs down and the feel of his cock bouncing past the elastic of his briefs actually caused Danny to hiss a little bit. Danny actually felt his cheeks flushing under the weight of Steve’s gaze.

Danny stepped out of his pants, didn’t even bother picking them up off the ground (Steve actually laughed at him and Danny promptly told him to shut the fuck up) and together they ambled into the small shower space where Steve turned the shower on to just this side of too bloody hot, and they stood under the spray together as the water rinsed of all the dirt and grime of the day, not to mention all the stress and anxiety and tension and close to fuck-ups they’d had today as their hands roamed over each other’s bodies, probing, searching, exploring.

The hot spray of water felt bloody glorious against Danny’s skin, but more so the way that Steve’s hands were skimming everywhere, ghosting along his collarbone, up and down his back, then coming back to rub soft circles around the planes of his lightly fluffy chest, stopping to circle around a nipple, stroking circles around the tender numb, Danny biting down hard to stifle a moan as he watched Steve’s eyes widen, the pupils blowing out and darkening in the most sensual way.

Danny raised his hands to wrap them around Steve’s neck again, and crush their naked bodies together, savouring the way the water acted as lubricant as Danny wriggled a little bit to increase the delicious friction as their cocks rubbed against each other, and their mouths sought out each other hungrily, kissing as the hot water streamed down their bodies, the heat seeping right down into their very bones.

Steve broke away first, an amused glint in his eye which was offset by his heavy panting as he murmured, fully laughing as Danny hissed when Steve moved away, their cocks no longer touching, but nearly lost his nerve right there and wanted to crowd Danny against the shower wall and ravage him, but forced himself to ground out, ‘I suppose we better start washing. We’ve got a lot to make up for Danno.’

Danny was standing there, eyes clamped shut and lips swollen, gritting his teeth, his cock jutting out angrily, clearly purpling (Steve’s cock jumped at the sight) and Steve could just tell that Danny was five seconds away from jumping him. Steve’s breath hitched, it was the most fucking erotically beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

Danny’s eyes snapped open and Steve was sure that Danny was trying to drill a hole right through his head, his eyes were narrowed in a truly pissed and aroused expression, the one that appears when you’re almost there and then the silly fucker you’re with decides only then to start teasing you in the most unfair way.

‘Its regarded as common sense that you finish something,’ Danny was gesticulating wildly with his hands now, obviously unable to contain his anger, ‘before moving on to new projects.’

Danny had just opened his mouth to say something along the lines of telling Steve, that bastard, to hurry the fuck up, and found himself covered by a blanket of warm wet man, shut up by a kiss that was hot enough to melt his brain, that succeeded in driving all thought out of his mind as the rational part of his brain shut down, and a baser, more primal instinct replaced it, under which all Danny could think about was the was the wet, hot skin sliding against his felt bloody marvellous, how every point along his body where they touched (he groaned as Steve dug his knee into the space between Danny’s thighs and used the leverage to grind against Danny all that more forcefully) thrummed with electricity against his flushed skin, how it wouldn’t take much to lean in and lap at the beads of water tricking down Steve’s neck, which he did, his tongue trailing a long wet swipe from the underside of Steve’s jaw all the way down his neck, latching onto the exposed skin as he bit and nibbled at the warm skin there. Steve’s breathing became all the more laboured the more Danny sucked and nibbled and he was grunting softly against Danny by this stage.

‘You want the job done?’ Steve murmured huskily against Danny in a voice that sent shivers ripping up his spine in a wholly good way, ‘I’ll get the job done for you,’ he latched his mouth around Danny’s again, practically clamping down, pouring dominance and possession and giving Danny every-fucking-thing that he wanted, that he was too chicken shit to ask for, before any of this. The kiss was fierce and hot and possessive as hell, as if Steve wanted to say _‘you’re mine’_ through it.  

Danny was already very close, and he was sure that there will be bruises on his backside from the way that the edge where the soap and the shampoo rested (he remembered knocking things to the ground as Steve crowded him against the shower wall, but he was too far gone to care) his hands moving to brace themselves on Steve’s broad shoulders, digging deeper into Steve’s skin as he got closer and closer.

He broke away from the kiss and bent his head back and came with a shout, pulsing creamy and white and hot against the flat lines of Steve’s stomach, his fingers digging deep enough to leave marks there tomorrow, Danny was sure of it, and the sight of this, head bent back, eyes clenched shut in pleasure, like a fucking wet dream (but much better, of course) was too much for Steve who was in way over his head at this point, and rutted his hips, grinding them against Danny as his come mingled with the hot water spraying down over them washing it all away, ground his hip down once, twice more, his stance going rigid as his orgasm gripped him, and he sailed past the point of no return, mirroring Danny and shouting out his pleasure, before seizing Danny’s lips in yet another hot and steamy kiss as the after shocks of that superb orgasm rocked through his body.

***

After they dried off and were sufficiently dressed for bed, meaning they were wearing nothing but their boxers, they laid on opposite sides of the bed, heads propped up on their hands as they faced each other, breathing easily, listening to the sounds of their mingled breathing as it tied in with the sounds of the sea outside, utterly content. He sighed and looked over at Steve, just to see those hazel eyes regarding him, and a lazy smug smile curl his lips.

‘Okay, now what is so damn funny?’ Danny groused.

‘I’m just really surprised how you can still be so grumpy after sex,’ Steve chuckled.

‘I am not grumpy,’ was the reply.

‘Am too.’

‘Am not.’

‘If I recall, you were the pissy one this afternoon,’ Danny continued, not missing a beat, giving Steve the raised eyebrow, ‘what gave?’

Steve sighed, running his free hand through his hair, and spoke in such a small voice that Danny actually had to lean in closer to Steve to catch what he was saying ‘I thought I lost you this afternoon.’

Danny sidled in closer to Steve, close enough to rest his forehead gently against Steve’s, the tips of their noses touching, allowing an indulgent smile to grace his lips.

‘No, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.’

Steve regarded him for a few moments, before scoffing ‘judging by the way Jameson was coming onto you earlier today, I thought that as a warm-blooded man you were going to take advantage.’ 

‘You should know by now that I’m not just any other man,’ Danny’s voice had that lilt to it, probably an effect of spending so much time in Steve’s company, before it shifted to become a mock-scold ‘and you have ruined any hope of me enjoying the sight of anything in a skirt, thanks a lot for that, asshole.’

Steve snorted at that, and Danny should be angry at him, should be pointing at him, finger jabbing squarely in the chest saying something about what the fuck was that, but he couldn’t bring himself to, still clearly way too relaxed over that toe-curling orgasm from before.

 At the moment, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but here, in this very bed, with anyone other than Steve right now, and he settled for just playfully hitting Steve on the arm, as they curled against each other like vines, clinging to each other as good exhaustion overwhelmed them and they drifted into the land of dreams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I lied, there are still notes at the bottom, but please remember to tell me what you think in a comment, and kudos if you like it! :)


	15. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had the whole structure of this story planned out, like I had actually put pen to paper on the direction, how many chapters to go, what was going to happen in each one, the ending and then as I was typing this it branched out into a full sex scene and became what you will be reading.
> 
> Regardless, enjoy!

Danny opened his eyes to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling, and the sounds of the ocean outside, breaking against the shore. Sunlight streamed in past the gaps in the curtains, painting strips of warmth on his skin. He sat up, bringing a hand up to rub the sleep out of his eyes and raise both his hands behind his head in a stretch. It was then that he noticed that he was not on the fold out sofa in his one-room apartment, the sheets definitely not the crumpled ones he was used to, for they felt soft and cool under his skin and the bedroom he was in was probably bigger than his entire apartment.

 _He was in Steve’s house, in Steve’s_ bedroom, _the morning after._  

He got up off the bed and went in search of some sort of bathrobe to slide on. First impressions mattered to Danny and he was aware that there was a very real possibility that McGarrett senior would not be very happy to see him wandering around the house in his goddamn boxers (no matter how much Steve would appreciate it). 

However there was no need to go very far, for Steve had folded his clothes neatly in a pile and put them just at the base of the bed, his shoes placed underneath, even his fucking socks rolled into a ball shove in his left shoe, and the tie, his favourite tie, lying on top of the pile, completely straightened and flat, as if it had been ironed.

Something in Danny seized up at that, he found himself beaming.

***

After the completion of as many morning ablutions considering that he didn’t have the foresight to bring toiletries (he tried resolutely not to stare at the shower, because every time he did, his cheeks became stained with crimson and heat radiated fiercely up his neck), and feeling refreshed, though no where near ready to face the day, Danny pulled the collar of his shirt up as high as possible to hide the trail of passion Steve had painted on his neck last night, fixed the double Windsor knot on his neck like he was born to do it, and headed downstairs to find the silly bugger. 

Steve was sitting at the dining table, papers strewn across the table, a half-empty cup of coffee in front of him (lukewarm at best) and his face was scrunched up in absolute concentration as he stared intently at the laptop screen, where he was typing furiously. The clock had just touched past seven in the morning and here he was, already hard at work. Bloody hell. 

The wood underneath Danny’s feet sagged under his weight as he descended the stairs, groaning a little, Steve’s ears perked up and he raised his head, beaming as Danny closed the distance between them and placed a warm hand on Steve’s shoulder. 

‘Morning sunshine,’ Danny murmured. 

Steve grinned at him expectantly, ‘what, no good morning kiss?’

‘I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,’ Danny replied, ‘didn’t want to gross you out.’ 

Steve merely laughed at that, and pulled Danny down onto the seat next to him, before leaning and capturing Danny’s lips in a gentle kiss, which was nothing more than a brush of lips against each other, before murmuring hot against Danny’s mouth, ‘first drawer under the bathroom counter, you’ll find all you need there.’ 

Five minutes later, breath properly minty fresh and face as close to clean-shaven as possible, Danny was back next to Steve, kissing him languidly as he stroked Steve’s tongue with the tip of his own. They kissed like this, open-mouthed and heatedly for a few minutes, and by the end of it when they finally broke apart Steve’s eyes had gone a dark shade of amber and glinted with lust, fixed on Danny with a look that he was three seconds away from jumping him (again) when Danny, breathing more heavily than was warranted, and interested in where this could possibly go (in more ways than one). 

‘Alright, was that enough of a good morning kiss for you?’ Danny murmured, so close that with each word his lips brushed lightly against Steve’s rather intimately. 

‘It needs work,’ but there was no chastising, no condescending note to Steve’s voice. Amusement danced in those hazel depths. 

‘Needs work?’ Danny was clearly affronted, his arms coming up to cross in front of his chest, ‘explain.’ 

‘Promising beginning, beautiful build-up but such a lacklustre ending.’ 

‘Lacklustre? As if you could do any better,’ Danny snorted, shifting in his seat. 

‘I definitely could.’ 

Danny raised an eyebrow, and bit out ‘how?’ 

Steve’s eyes shone in that knowing way, ‘I can think of an ending that would be mutually enjoyable for both of us.’ 

A few beats of silence passed between them, before Danny’s mind caught onto the idea, the tension dissipated from his face, to be replaced by a challenging look, complete with sly smile. 

‘ _Mutually enjoyable,_ eh?’ Danny licked his lips at all the sordid thoughts that popped into his head, ‘why wait to get to the bedroom, when we have this entire house to play with?’ he brought a hand up to trace the whorls of ink on Steve’s arm, delighted at the way Steve’s eyes narrowed and his breath hitched at that, just a little, but noticeable to Danny all the same. 

Steve chuckled darkly, his voice a little rough around the edges, ‘Yeah, but what if Dad walks right in on us, just when things are getting _real_ nice?’ 

A thought niggled at the back of Danny’s mind. Persistently, such that he found he couldn’t continue, and a frown appeared on his face. Steve’s expression tightened and mirrored the worry. 

‘Hey, Danno, what’s wrong?’ 

‘Steve, _babe,_ ’Danny murmured, moving away, to try and physically resist from giving into temptation, what with all that Steve was offering, ‘shouldn’t your Dad be home now?’ 

Steve shrugged, ‘don’t worry about it. He’s a grown man who can take care of himself. He was a cop after all. Now,’ that playful lilt wandered back into Steve’s voice as it dipped low enough to send shivers down Danny’s spine, and he lent forward until he was right up in Danny’s personal space, ‘shall we continue?’ 

Danny’s heart was racing by now, and he was pretty sure he was as hot and red as he felt (suddenly his pants felt way too tight) and his next word came out more like a hiss rather than a word. 

‘Yes,’ but then he raised his hand to tap Steve on the tip of his nose, and the poor sod blinked and went cross-eyed for all of two seconds, Danny laughing at how ridiculous he looked, ‘only after you give me that damn report.’ 

Steve actually pouted for all of another two seconds, before he moved forward, invading Danny’s personal space (not that he minded very much, really) for the second time that morning like this, and reached out to stroke the soft skin on the underside of Danny’s wrists, where he could feel the rapid beating his heart and rubbed small, slow circles at the pressure point there. 

‘As you can see,’ Steve spoke, with just a hint of pleading in his voice, ‘I’ve been working very hard on it, don’t I deserve a reward?’ those hazel eyes fucking _pleading_ with him now, shining softly in the light of day which got stronger with each passing minute as the sun crept higher in the sky. 

‘Uh…’ 

It was only natural that Danny’s brain for the most part was still offline as he had not had his morning coffee, nor his breakfast for that matter, and he had managed to stay with this, with Steve’s teasing all morning so far, and the guy, he had an unfair advantage, evident in the worn out mug that sat next to a stack of papers stacked high on the table. He had no comeback for this, and a strong urge to knock over the stack, to send papers flying everywhere across the table, fluttering to the floor stole over him, but he was able to resist the childish impulse. 

Just barely. 

It was the lack of coffee, that was it. 

But then his stomach rumbled, rather loudly. Several minutes of silence trickled by. 

‘You’re hungry, Danno?’ was all Steve said to that, amusement shining brightly, ‘figures, why don’t you come into the kitchen and we’ll see if there is anything for you to eat. You’re such a demanding guest.’ 

‘Oh, I’m demanding, am I?’ Danny’s eyebrow shot up at that, and he grumbled, ‘and who went all _demanding_ on me yesterday, eh?’ He really wished he hadn’t just said that, as memories of being pressed against the shower wall with Steve all over him flooded his thoughts and- 

Yeah. 

‘Needs must,’ Steve replied breezily, ‘we were equally at fault there. Besides, you’re always hungry, or thirsty, or cold. So much demanding.’ 

‘Needs must,’ Danny parroted, in his best imitation of Steve at his smuggest and most annoying and noted with no small amount of glee as Steve’s brow furrowed in irritation.

They were in the kitchen by now, where Danny pushed past Steve to make a beeline for the fridge and opened it, bending down to check the lower shelves for something remotely edible (his hopes fading fast). Steve merely scoffed and groused, ‘why, go ahead, make yourself fucking comfortable.’ 

Danny turned around to look at him with an expression approaching I-want-to-slap-your-face level of smugness, ‘thanks Steve,’ he bat his eyelashes at him, ‘I fully intend to.’ 

Something in Steve’s chest twisted at that, and the irritation faded just as quickly as it had set in. 

Steve fished for some bowls from one of the cupboards and spoons from the drawers, and had just pulled out the jar of instant coffee when he stopped dead in his tracks, catching sight of Danny’s completely flabbergasted expression, milk clutched loosely in his hands. 

‘Hey,’ Steve warned, ‘you drop it, you’re cleaning it up.’

Danny’s eyes were still fixed on the jar clutched in Steve’s hands, and he cringed at the wholly undignified nature of Danny’s voice, which had escalated in pitch rapidly, ‘is that what I _think_ it is?’ 

‘It moves, it breathes,’ Steve muttered cryptically. 

‘It’s _instant_ ,’ Danny said in way of reply, stressing the last word, as if that explained everything. He placed the milk on the table, biting his lip and closed the fridge door, opting to lean on it, crossing his arms. 

‘It’s still coffee,’ Steve said, ‘unfortunately, I neither have the time nor the resources to charter a plane to the coffee roasting houses in Colombia to get you freshly grounded, roasted beans,’ at the faces Danny was making at the moment, irritation bristled yet again in Steve, ‘oh c’mon, it won’t kill you-’ 

Unfortunately the sarcasm was lost to Danny. 

‘It’s not the same,’ Danny moaned, ‘there’s a reason why one of the first things I requested when I became head of Five O was a coffee machine. Fuck, how am I going to survive-’ 

Steve was closing the space between them, and stood just an arm’s length away from Danny as he regarded him critically. 

‘I’m doing you a great service,’ Steve continued, shrugging, ‘you’ve been clearly drinking too much of the stuff, coffee is still a drug, even if it is coffee,’ he was standing very close to Danny now, his hands grasping loosely at the folds of the fabric of Danny’s shirt, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating in waves off Danny’s body, see the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. 

Danny however, was having none of it, and turned his head to the side, clearly pissed, ‘I can tell what is and isn’t good for me. Now let me go,’ Danny was struggling against him, but it was half hearted at best, and there was a glimmer of interest in those blue eyes, which were still fixed intently on Steve. 

‘I can think of better things to be addicted to,’ and with that, Steve had leaned in fully now, so that their torsos were pressed tightly against each other as he kissed and nibbled and licked the skin just to the side of Danny’s mouth, and Danny, his mind being reduced to a one-track nature (food or sex) unconsciously turned his head towards Steve such that Steve was now fully kissing him on the mouth in earnest again, running his tongue across those lips which were still primly pressed closed, but then he raised his hands from the folds of Danny’s shirt and fisted them in Danny’s hair, rubbing small circles at the back of Danny’s nape and he groaned, melting into the kiss, and his hands uncrossed themselves and hooked into the front of Steve’s shirt, pulling him closer. 

As Danny was kissing him back (rather enthusiastically) parting his mouth and soon Steve could feel Danny’s tongue probing his mouth, licking stripes of wet heat everywhere in his mouth, along his teeth, up the back and the tension disappeared from Danny’s stance. 

When they broke apart (gasping for air as per the usual) Danny looked down, and saw the combined bulges at the front of their pants. Steve, his cheeks rather flushed by now, looked up at Danny knowingly, and with the next sentence, Danny _really_ wanted to hit him.

‘See what I mean?’ he mock-queried in that damn saucy lilt of his, which made everything all the more worse for Danny.   

Danny huffed in irritation and stared down at the tented bulge at the front of his pants again, before glaring at Steve, who still had that damn snotty insufferable smile on his face (Danny’s fingers actually itched to wipe it off Steve’s face), ‘you got me into this,’ he muttered, voice low and rough, ‘now get me off.’

Steve pretended to mull things over for all of two seconds (the itching desire for violence getting stronger with each passing moment) but caved in, just as hungry as Danny was, and chuckled as he expertly pulled the zipper to Danny’s trousers down and seized Danny’s cock from his boxers which was now just the colour of a ripe peach and half-hard.

‘Now Steve muttered, let’s get down to business,’ his voice going all cool and professional, as if he were settling down for another day’s hard work at the lab, and it pissed Danny off six ways to Sunday such that he wanted to poke Steve in the eye for it. Oh boy.

Knowing the effect he was having on Danny, Steve proceeded to continue on teasing him. He crouched down and rubbed at Danny’s cock lightly, not enough to provide any form of substantial relief, but enough that the mast had risen to full height by this point, and a bead of pre-come dotted the tip. Steve noted that Danny’s breathing had become rather heavy by this point, and his knuckles were clenched so tightly that they had gone white. His hands moved up and down the length of Danny’s shaft, and sighed as Danny’s balls were still hidden under those folds of fabric and he wanted to roll them in his hands, all the better to piss Danny off. What a lost opportunity. He hadn’t bothered to spit into his hand for lubrication, his hand moving up and down the shaft, the strokes calculated and firm and he was clutching tightly enough that there would be exquisite friction, not too much to burn and hurt like hell, but something approaching painful, but in a good way, but not quite there yet.

Danny gritted his teeth and managed to stop most of the desperate hissing sounds, even going so far as to jerk his hips forwards to do something, anything to change this rhythm that Steve had set up, something as old as time itself and make Steve hurry the fuck up, but the bastard had just braced his other hand against Danny’s hip and pined him down, completely restricting movement in Danny’s lower body such that he had no choice but to stay here like this, and fall prey to whatever the fuck Steve had in mind.

Danny couldn’t stop the moan of appreciation that sailed past his lips as Steve’s grip on his cock changed, becoming slicker and smoother, and he looked down to see that Steve had used his pre-come as lubricant, rubbing it all over the length such that his cock was glistening in the morning light. As if sensing his eyes on him, Steve looked up and, wow, he looked as every bit unhinged as Danny felt, dancing on that very fine line between pleasure and pain, like he was in his element, doing what he was born to do.

Something in Danny’s expression must have given him away, for the next moment, Steve’s mouth was hovering tantalisingly close to the tip, such that with every word spoken his breath, hot and wet, ghosted over Danny’s cock, making it jump just that bit more.

In Danny’s mind he wanted to say something along the lines of _just blow me already damn it_ (more like shout it out or something) but even he was not caveman enough to demand such a thing, he was hanging on by a thread, rational part of his mind mostly shut down, but still online enough to try and salvage what was left of, whatever.

Instead, what he said was, ‘Steve, as much as I appreciate this, really, what if your Dad really catches us like this?’ Even as the words spilled out of his mouth, he realised just what a fucking turn on that could be. Oops.

‘If he does,’ Steve murmured between the wet sounds of his hand sliding along Danny’s cock, as they twisted now, rather than slid along the length, and a truly mean smile broke across his features, ‘we have just enough time to tuck you back in.’

He glared at Steve. ‘I’ll never be able to look your old man in the eye, should that ever happen,’ Danny panted between breaths.

Steve laughed, ‘you’d be surprised what you can and can’t do.’

‘True,’ Danny snorted, ‘I still can’t believe that I let you let pineapple anywhere within a five mile radius of me.’

Now it was Steve’s turn to snort, ‘what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.’

‘Get on with it then, don’t know what the fuck is taking…so long,’ Steve smiled at that, because Danny was a loquacious idiot, and he must be teetering on some sort of edge to have forgone his first person pronouns.

Steve replied drolly, ‘I’m taking notes, this is a new experience for me.’

Danny could only grunt to that, and a wicked idea clicked in Steve’s head.

‘See,’ Steve started on the verbal commentary, opting for an innocent _it wasn’t me, honest_ kind of voice, which renewed Danny’s flagging desire to hit him, ‘I don’t know what to do, I mean, should I keep going on like this’ –he twisted Danny’s cock rather viciously, earning his a dragged out moan, as the flesh there was probably highly sensitized by now- ‘or should I take you in my mouth, all the way down as far as I can go, I have no gagging reflex Danny, see?’

He briefly let go of Danny’s cock with his hands, and he could only stare slack jawed as Steve opened his jaw wide, and enveloped the entire length into his mouth, the tip just hitting what felt like the back of Steve’s throat, and just as quickly as he had been engulfed in splendid hot wetness, it was gone, and Danny felt the loss acutely so much that he whined. Steve chuckled at that before resuming the idle strokes up and down, occasionally flicking his wrist to twist.

‘There are just so many things I want to do to you,’ Steve murmured huskily, his voice low and breathless, as if the very sight of Danny like this had him on edge too, ‘I imagine things Danno, I’m no fucking saint. I imagine your hands fisting on my head as you fuck my mouth,’ he paused, and, just feeling a bit like a bastard of the first order, and because he could, and he was enjoying this way too much for it to be considered healthy, he darted his tongue out to lick a long swipe from the based all the way to the tip, blowing hot air on it slightly to cool the heated flesh, such that he had Danny twitching, and the man really did fist his hands in Steve’s hair at this stage, but Steve held firm, steady, not budging an inch.

‘You fucking bastard,’ Danny gritted through his still clenched teeth.

Steve smiled lazily at that, his voice at that tone that was guaranteed to get under Danny’s skin, for all the heap of shivering breathless limbs that Danny was at the moment, Steve was the stark opposite, tightly coiled, his movements calculated and concise, and grinning ear to ear rather than grimacing, ‘quite, but that’s not going to get you anywhere, Danno.’

And because he was such a fucking bastard of the first order, he paused in his little speech to lave at the tip of the cock head, saving the bitter saltiness of the fluid there, before running his tongue over the delicate bundle of nerves just underneath and scraped his teeth against it, just a little, the sensation causing Danny to yelp and hiss and his breathing to get all that more ragged.

Steve was very pleased to note that by now Danny was a wreck, completely and utterly.

‘Or else,’ continuing mercilessly now, going for the jugular ‘I imagine what you would feel like inside me, buried up to the hilt in my ass as I clench around you, trying desperately trying to hold onto you as you fuck me into the mattress’ the last word coming out more like a caress as he levelled his mouth with Danny’s cock, which had hardened just that little bit more, just for orgasm as the grip on his head became just this side of painful, but it was fucking erotic, all the same. ‘I imagine…’ and with that, he clamped his mouth around Danny’s cock like a vice, and sucked, sucked like his life depended on it, keeping the suction consistent and strong, before stopping abruptly and looking up at Danny, who was gazing down at him with something feral lurking in the depths of the blue, gazing down at Steve like this was the most amazing thing ever, and Steve felt _his_ cock twitch, already uncomfortably constrained in his cargo pants and boxers and his breath hitched all the more and he bat his eyelashes at Danny, who was making these really obscene noises right now, such a fucking turn on, and Steve was almost distracted from the end goal, and Steve murmured, hot and filthy against the hard length in his mouth.

‘Come for me, Danno.’

Steve swallowed the entire length again, running his tongue along the bottom of the shaft, and that was all that was needed to send Danny off the cliff, and he came, hot and salty and bitter down Steve’s throat. When he had spent himself, Steve brought a hand up to wipe his mouth, and swallowed before smacking his lips together and running a tongue along the outside.  He finally removed the hand pinning Danny to the fridge, tucked Danny back in, and slid up the length of Danny’s body to capture his lips in another sizzling kiss, and Danny groaned and panted into it as he could still taste himself on Steve’s tongue.

When they pulled apart, Danny was rather boneless and sagged against the fridge, a fine sheen of sweat on him, his breathing rushed and ragged as if he had been running a marathon, but he was grinning like an idiot, and soon those blue eyes looked at Steve in what could only be true irritation, and stared pointedly down at the very obvious bulge at the front of Steve’s cargo pants.

‘I’m beginning to see your point there,’ Danny said aloud after he had regained some semblance of composure, ‘I could get addicted to it.’

Steve grinned, ‘Now _that_ wouldn’t be a bad thing.’

Danny crouched down at the front of Steve’s bulge, and unzipped the zipper, savouring the rustle as the teeth parted, feeling oddly giddy about it. Steve’s eyes were fixed on the mop of blonde hair bent over him and could only gasp as his cock sprung free of the tight confines of his pants and Danny proceeded, in five seconds flat, to fist the bottom half of Steve’s cock roughly and clamp his lips over the other half and suck and suck and suck and suck, the wet sucking sounds music to Steve’s ears and quicker than what could be considered flattering, meaning borderline embarrassing, Steve came with a grunt as Danny kept the sucking and stroking him until he felt bloody bone dry.

Danny gave him the stink-eye and was about to say something really mean to Steve but then he remembered how on edge Steve must have been for the past, he glanced up at the clock, shit, it had just ticked past 8.45am, they were going to be late at this rate, but more importantly, Steve had been on edge for the past fucking 40 minutes with no touching. Being of a most generous nature, Danny instead opted to say, ‘shit, we are going to be late, get up off your feet McGarrett, we’ve got work to do, not my fault if I’m so bloody good at it.’

‘Ability is subjective,’ Steve laughed, warm and comfortably, as he shoved past Danny to go into the living room, leaving him spluttering ‘what the fuck, what?’

‘I still haven’t had my coffee!’ Danny called out, rapidly catching up to Steve.

Steve shock his head, clearly in amusement, ‘I’m still amazed you can be this bitchy, even after mind-blowing sex.’

‘Fuck you,’ Danny harrumphed.

‘Stop being such a cry-baby. Why don’t we get some when we finally make it to the office?’ Steve suggested amiably.

‘I need to stop by my place first, as well,’ Danny said, and then added, ‘and am not. A cry-baby that is.’

Steve smiled that soft smile that did funny things to Danny’s legs (it was his knee goddamn it, the fucker) and leaned into Danny and quickly kissed him, just a peck on the lips as he raised an eyebrow, ‘you’re many things. Besides, we’re already late, and you look fine as you are,’ he raised a hand to trail the tips of his fingers along the curve of Danny’s cheek, pleased at the way Danny’s breath hitched again, his pupils blowing out just a little bit more, but noticeable to Steve all the same. 

‘I’m wearing yesterday’s clothes,’ Danny mentioned, hitching an eyebrow up to match Steve as he crossed his arms, ‘people are going to notice it and I don’t want to add more fuel to Jameson’s fire.’

Whatever had been on the tip of Steve’s tongue never made it to the light of day, because Danny’s phone rang, and the shit really hit the fan.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to kudos if you haven't done so, and tell me what you think in a comment. Any questions? Post them for me in a comment too.
> 
> Much love.


	16. The Calm Before The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, so in this chapter there will be character death, er, I don't even know if that it possible considering, well, you'll just have to read to find out. I'm not being very clear here, but I'm trying, as this chapter has to be one of the toughest I've written so far, and has sucked my ability to string a logical sentence together out of the top of my head. So without further a due, Enjoy!

All thoughts of what Jameson and everyone else would think if he arrived on the scene in yesterday’s clothes with Steve in tow abruptly flew out of Danny’s mind, and with his heart racing at a thousand miles per hour (not in a good way of course) and panic, fucking, panic gnawing at his insides, the post-coital bliss of the morning wiped away clean, he stood there and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing down the errant strands as he wondered how the fuck he was going to tell Steve.

***

As soon as the wheels of the Camaro started to slow down on the shoulder off the highway near Waimanalo, where Danny caught glimpses of the sunlight sparkling against the seawater as the water rolled lazily into shore between the densely packed palm trees, Steve had sprung the door open and was sprinting down the slopes onto the beach where illusion of serenity was shattered as there were no gaggles of tourists in brightly coloured shirts clutching surfboards, nor was there any sign of the ever-present shave ice stand so popular on these stretches of idyllic beach.

Instead, dozens of uniformed police officers swarmed around a particular area of coast, just too far right from Danny’s line of vision to make any good thing out it. He put the car into Park and pulled the handbrake up before it even stopped moving properly, resulting in the Camaro jerking abruptly to a stop and before he knew it, he was sprinting down the slope, matching Steve’s actions from earlier as he prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that everything wasn’t as bad as Chin had made it sound on the phone.

He ignored the way the leaves and branches whipped past his face and body, eyes fixed on the swarm of police in front of him, heart racing and cold sweat trickling down his brow (which for once had nothing to do with the heat), and soon cleared the slope and almost fell face first into the sand but then a strong pair of hands caught him, just in time and he looked up into Chin’s solemn eyes and caught the underlying note of sadness there. 

Danny’s throat clicked, and he really did not want to hear the answer, but he asked anyway, ‘is it that bad?’

Chin let go of Danny at this point, and nodded, and Danny felt all the colour drain out of his face and with each step closer to the police officers in front of him, not to mention to the lab boys scuttling back and forth, his legs felt heavier and heavier, and soon enough he parted the sea of black and came face to face with the sight that nothing in the world could have prepared him for, and thinking mutely, how knowing the dead person made all the difference.

Sprawled in the middle of the circle of police officers, forensic people and paramedics was the lifeless body of John McGarrett, slumped face down onto the sand, his face twisted to the side such that anyone looking could see that he was obviously in pain before he died, his hazel eyes open and staring blankly into space as he mouth was opening in a slight ‘o’ shape, a small trickle of blood oozed onto the sand, turning the fine crystals underneath him crimson. Danny was close enough to see that what killed him was a bullet straight to the brain.

But even in the middle of all of this, even though the emotional part of his brain was clearly crying out, telling him that he shouldn’t be here, that he should be with Steve comforting the bugger (he was nowhere to be seen at this stage), that Steve shouldn’t be left alone during a time like this, Danny did not allow it to distract the rational, logical part of his brain, where the cogs were spinning as he threw in more than ten years experiencing of working homicide cases back in Newark into this. 

He figured that he owed it to Steve to catch the sadistic fucker who killed John, and maybe be there to tame the strong, violent desire for retribution and vengeance by hauling the fucker into the light when Steve had finally moved passed the shock stage. And maybe it would be a good idea to have a straight jacket there, because Danny knew, deep down to his very bones, that Steve, the fucker, never did anything in halves. 

Okay, he bent down to more closely inspect the body. The first thing he noticed was that John had not been killed on this beach, instead, the body was most likely killed at another place and dumped here onto these sandy shores. He ignored the way the water lapped softly at his feet, ignored the way it seeped into his shoes as it licked the curve of John’s body, which was lying such a way that each time the surf rolled into the tide, the surf tugged at the back of his shirt and his leg, creating ripples in the otherwise undisturbed flow of water as his brow furrowed as he thought the logical sequence of things. 

Danny bent over to look at the gaping bullet hole in John’s head, which was in the area just above his ear, where another trail of blood had trickled out, down his neck into the collar of his shirt. He grabbed a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and proceeded to softly touch and prod John’s head, moving it gently, his gaze assessing. When he was done, he mulled over the discovery. John had been shot a point-blank range, Danny was sure of this as he could see that the hair around the bullet wound had been singed with powder burns, the skin purple and dark there, and that the bullet had cut a clean line straight across the head, and exited on the other side. The lack of gore and grey matter on the otherwise pristine sand indicated to Danny that John had very definitely not died here. Instead, he had found the bullet lodged in the sand, as if it had been planted there, under John’s head, and he didn’t have to think twice, having seen the same fucking bullet in photographs and Steve’s forensic analysis how many goddamn times. 

There was no doubt about as he lifted it up to the sunlight, squinting the way the overbearing light shone into his eyes, the tell-tale mixture of lead and iron gleaming softly crimson in the morning sunlight, and he found himself clenching his teeth as all grudging respect for the serial killer heretofore up until this point dissipated, as a haze of fury washed over Danny, and he swore that he was going to catch this fucker, who had dared hurt his Steve in such a way even if it was the very last fucking thing that he ever did.

He stood up, wincing slightly at the protest in his bum knee as it screamed bloody murder at him for staying in the same crouched position for the last God knew how long time, and waved a lab assistant over to give the bullet to. The very same lab assistant that he ran into outside of Steve’s office from yesterday before answered him, and Danny could see that the kid would rather be anywhere but with Danny now, and answering the call of duty with a slight trepidation lighting up his otherwise blank features, he stepped forward.

‘Yes sir?’ he piped up.  

‘Bag this up,’ Danny barked out, extending his arm so that the bullet was clearly visible, ‘make it top priority as of now to get this back to the lab.’

The assistant extracted a plastic bag marked with a big sticker saying ‘EVIDENCE’ he held it out for Danny to deposit the bullet into, and Danny glared as his retreating back as he flew like a bat straight out of hell to get that bullet down to the lab, for Steve.

 _Steve._

Danny took off the gloves and stuffed them back into his back trouser pocket and took a chance to run his hand over his hair, clearly thinking of how the fuck he was going to broach this topic with Steve. Sure, Steve was the best Forensic Expert on the islands, and Danny didn’t have to request to see the record of sorts listing out all of the cases that had been solved with Steve’s prowess, that he was the best person for this job, but given the current circumstances, he had to put a degree of separation between Steve and this case, because Danny was not such a cold, heartless bastard such that he would subject Steve to the psychological horror of having to perform an autopsy on his own fucking father.

Right, he was going to ease Steve out of his role as Five O’s forensics expert into, well, what, Danny had no idea, but he knew that Steve still had to be on this case, so Danny could keep an eye on him, so that he has a better than average chance of achieving closure, achieving peace with himself over this horrible chain of events. 

With his blood boiling at the images of all the things he would like to do to the serial killer should he get a chance at him, he set off, looking for Steve and taking this chance to observe the scene around him as the waves continued to lap at the shore. 

He could make out Kono, with a look of steely determination set on her face as she barked orders out to the lab assistants, making sure that every fucking piece of available evidence was collect and sent off to the lab, and he didn’t need to know that she was trying to stay strong, fighting every fucking feminine urge to holler at the top of her lungs and sob her sadness for all the world to hear, and his respect for her increased severally notches, and he found himself thinking warmly that he was looking at a cop with a very bright future ahead of her, the world as her oyster and all that jazz.

Chin was not much better, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched the body wagon roll onto the sand and two people jumped out to bring a stretcher out, and a third jumped out from the back with a body bag in his arms, and Danny’s heart jumped at that, as the full weight of the fact that John McGarrett had been murdered settled down onto his shoulders. He forced himself to look away. 

Danny continued walking along the shore, and sure enough he found Steve sitting on a log halfway up the slope of the embankment, half obscured by the shadows of the palm trees around him, far away enough from the crime scene to see everything that was happening, but far away enough that no one noticed him from here.

Either way, Danny was fine with it.

The morning sun beat down relentlessly on them all as sweat trickled down his brow and his breathing got more ragged as he climbed the slope of the embankment, and a painful large lump formed in his throat as the sight of Steve with his head hanging between his knees, obviously dry heaving. Wiping the sweat off his brow, Danny settled down next to Steve, glad to be away from the sun’s fierce heat as the wind whistled past the leaves. 

 _Barring the circumstances, this would have been a nice place to go on a day like this_ , Danny found himself wandering, as he turned to survey the damage.

Steve had not even noticed him, had shown no outward sign that he acknowledged Danny, or even if he was capable of acknowledging anything happening around him right now, even if one of the many volcanoes on the island was erupting right now, even if the lava was rolling towards them, singing and burning and blistering away their clothes and skin and- 

Yes, grief tended to do that to people. 

An awkward silence settled between them, and Danny took comfort in the constant breaking of waves against the shore, as he composed his thoughts and allowed the gentle sounds to ease away at the anger and hurt and bloodlust that had been simmering ever since Chin’s fucking phone call this morning.

He brought his hand up to gently rub his hand up and down Steve’s back, the motion itself oddly soothing and helping the last of his anger fade away, only to be replaced with a weary sort of resignation, such as were his life and he leaned in closer to Steve, close enough that he could literally smell the fear and despair and sadness lurking there, and placed his other hand on one of Steve’s hands, which were clutching the fabric of his cargo pants so tightly that his knuckles were white, and Danny noted with worry that even though Steve’s hand was shaking very slightly beneath Danny’s. 

After what seemed like an eternity to Danny (patience had never been one of his strong points, really) Steve finally brought his head back up from between his knees, and regarded Danny with eyes rimmed with red, but they were still dry nonetheless, and Danny felt relieved, because he wasn’t sure on how to deal with a crying Steve (not that he seemed the type to cry) and he wasn’t sure he had it in him to pull Steve back from this black hole of despair, no matter how hard he tried.

He nearly lost it then, as his eyes burned and he felt the very strong urge to blink away the wetness that had just gathered there.

In that moment, Grace’s soft voice floated back to him, the words warming his heart and giving him the strength to keep going, because he was nearly at his wit’s end, because this was all so new and foreign to him, and he felt adrift, like he was lost at sea, those words she had spoken to him which made her seem so much older than she really was, which gave Danny comfort when it all threatened to get to much, when he felt like all his efforts where in vein and nothing could stop the impending disaster. 

 _‘You can only do your best Danno, and no more.’_

Next thing Danny knew, Steve is moving into his arms, his head resting against Danny’s shoulder as he tries to will himself into calm, his breath rushing out in short gasps and Danny closed his arms around Steve all that much tighter, savouring the way that Steve had taken the first step, and is now standing at the edge of the proverbial woods.

They sat in this fashion for the next few moments, feeding off their desire for comfort, and Danny moved his head such that one side of his face rested on the top of Steve’s head, and they watched the seagulls fly overhead the ocean and it sparkled as the kelp that lined parts of the shore was swept up, and away. It was very peaceful, and soon Danny’s hands dropped and his fingers sough out Steve’s and they laced themselves together.

Finally, Steve managed to summon up whatever strength he had left, and shifted to look at Danny, who instantly moved to give Steve all the space he needed, and soon, hazel met blue again, looking more brown than blue under the canopy of palm trees they were under.

‘I need to get this fucker,’ Steve whispered, almost drowned out by the wind and the sound of the waves, anger and determination tingeing his mute voice, ‘I need to get this fucker if it’s the last thing I do. For Dad.’

Danny could feel the fingers wrapped around his squeezed all the more tighter, and his breath hitched at the dark and violent desires he knew must be simmering behind those hazel eyes as they glinted with determination and resolve, and he found that he had no way or refusing Steve, of refusing any hope the sod had for closure and catharsis.

‘Right,’ he murmured weakly, ‘but I’m not letting you handle the autopsy. No fucking way.’

Steve’s face scrunched up in disbelief, and the look he gave Danny could only be described as outrageously affronted, ‘Danny, I can still do my job.’

‘Look, no one would, no one in their right mind would do what you’re going to do,’ the glare in Steve’s eyes died just a little at that, and the heaviness in Danny’s heart uprooted itself, just a little, but it was still there, nonetheless, ‘you’d have to be completely crazy, not to mention a little unwell in the head, there. Besides, I wouldn’t want to put you through anything like that, I wouldn’t.’ _Because I love you, you big idiot._

That last part almost tumbled out, and both of their nerves were heavily frayed at this point, and Danny really didn’t really want to send Steve’s sanity off the deep end, so he kept the last part of that sentence to himself. Although, from the way Danny was looking at him, all affectionate and caring and fucking radiating worry and anxiety and the promise of better brighter days ahead at the same time, his hair standing up as the wind blew past him, Steve still heard the unspoken words all the same, and managed a small tentative smile as the anger and sadness dissipated just a little, and he felt a bit better.

By now, their fingers were still laced together, and there was no sign that they would be letting go anytime soon, but like the way the tide pulls away from the shore, they soon let go of each other, and ambled back towards the real world, which welcomed them back with open arms.

***

Later that afternoon, Danny’s office had been turned into a makeshift war room. Chairs were crammed on all sides around the coffee table in front of the sofa in the office, laptops sat on the cool glass, their cables running off the edges like spider’s silk. Files full of photographs and documents and reports of every fucking little detail since the serial killings had started sat open on the desk, along with cups of half-full coffee everywhere. The coffee maker sat on one of those cart things wheeled into the room, and bubbled merrily, oblivious to the tension in the air.

More chairs were arranged around Danny’s desk, with him standing next to the whiteboard behind it, a whiteboard marker in his hands as he thumbed through the autopsy file on John McGarrett, his brow furrowing deeper with each passing second. Steve, Chin and Kono sat huddled around the desk on squished in chairs, waiting for some sort of reaction from Danny.

The seconds bled into minutes before Kono spoke up, ‘Danny, would you like to share with the class?’

Danny’s lips thinned into a line, not quite hiding the grimace behind it, ‘I’m not sure if you’d want to hear this, because it’s pretty self-explanatory.’

‘Please,’ Steve said, and Danny found that he didn’t have it in to refuse. He sighed, starting from the beginning, his eyes fixed on Steve.

‘The coroner has ruled that John died from a bullet fired at point-blank range with shattered the skull and cause massive cerebral hemorrhaging and edema. Several brain injury, the bullet was fired by someone short than John, because the bullet went up, rather than down or around.’

‘So he died from a single bullet to the brain,’ Chin confirmed. Danny nodded. ‘Does it say anything about the type of bullet used, or the gun from which it was fired?’

‘It’s him alright,’ Danny stated simply, unable to keep the edge of hatred out of his voice, ‘the bullet contained the identical mixture of lead and iron in the same ratio as all the other bullets found in all the other victims. There is no question that the bullet was fired from a Smith and Wesson, the very same gun.’

Steve looked extremely troubled by this point, and Danny found himself harrumphing, ‘Steve, are you sure that you want to be here for this? I mean, look at you, I can tell that you don’t want to hear this. Hell, this is the last thing that any sane reasonable person wants to hear. I understand, if you want to take yourself off this case-’

‘Danny,’ Steve abruptly cut across, with the ghost of his usual self, ‘I am not a fucking doll, I can handle this,’ and glared at Danny, resilience shining brightly in those hazel depths, ‘cut it out. I won’t break.’

‘Steve,’ Kono reached out to Steve and clasped his hand loosely in her, and Danny found his field of vision narrowed down to the point where Kono’s hand rested on Steve’s and he found himself wishing that she would remove it from Steve’s, even though there was no romantic sentiment attached to it. His grip on the file tightened all that much more, bordering on painful, but he didn’t care, ‘Danny’s just worried about you. We all are.’

‘Your anger is misdirected,’ Chin chimed in, turning to give Danny a pointed, knowing look, ‘let’s just quickly get through this, and pray that we can find a break in it all.’

Steve had the decency to look moderately ashamed, his eyes turning downcast and in any other circumstance, this would have made Danny feel proud and smug, but in the present circumstances it was rather pointless, and left him feeling rather hollow.

‘Okay people,’ Danny said, injecting his voice with a confidence and energy he didn’t feel, ‘lets start from the top,’ he divided the whiteboard into five sections, ‘names, dates, why they were killed. Go.’

Kono ran to the coffee table and grabbed all of the victims’ files and passed three each to Chin and Steve, before squeezing between Chin and Steve to sit down and thumb through the well-worn files. There were a few seconds of silence except for the soft sound of turning pages before Steve started.

‘James Horningsea, 23rd February 2011, he kidnapped ten underage girls across Oahu and Maui and made snuff films with them,’ Steve recited, Danny starting to scribble on the whiteboard, the pen strokes making distracting squeaking sounds. 

‘Kingston Olena, 27th February 2011, he got hookers addicted to meth and acid and made them work for him in exchange for access to drugs,’ Kono added, her face set in a frown, which made her look all that older. 

‘Chinwa Satanghatham, 15th March 2011,’ Kono continued, rifling through the second file, her eyes scanning the page, ‘got away with torturing and killing his parents and lover on a mere technicality.’    

‘Sean Evans, 13th February 2011, killed his father and locked his mother in the basement of the family home and had an incestuous relationship with her, oh my God,’ Chin couldn’t keep the note of disgust out his voice by that stage, but then again, it had been pretty terrible. 

‘Shigure Takamoto, 22nd March 2011, underworld identity, person of interest in basically every Yakuza murder on these islands,’ Chin continued, his voice relatively level again.

‘Adnoatina Boateng,’ Steve said, his lip curling into a smile, ‘9th April 2011, suspected leader of a child slavery and prostitution ring based out of the Pacific Islands.’

‘Kam Ho, 17th April 2011, middle man in the drug importation business and the Chinese mail order bride service,’ Kono quoted, throwing her three folders down on the table, and running both of her hands through her hair before taking a sip of coffee.

‘Kimmy Kaulani, 4th March 2011, enforcer for the Samoans over on the Big Island, notorious because he will kill children and women if the payoff is big enough,’ Chin concluded, before matching Kono and throwing his papers down onto the table, before bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

‘Lien Han Kang, 3rd April 2011, fence for the Triads in every possible way, for all sorts of merchandise, from hot goods to people,’ Steve folded his file again and placed it on the table. 

Not to mention ‘John McGarrett,’ Danny added as he scribbled furiously, 3 pairs of very interested eyes fixed on his back as he scribbled. When he took a step back, they stared at the whiteboard some more, ‘well anyone, see anything?’ 

Steve was the first to say something, ‘my Dad shouldn’t be there. All of the other guys are criminals who were living amongst ordinary people. He was a cop, with a perfect record, all the way up until his retirement.’ 

‘I can vouch for that,’ Chin added, ‘you’ve never met a man who was more dedicated to maintaining law and order that Steve’s old man.’ 

‘How do you know that?’ Danny raised an eyebrow. 

Chin sighed, ‘before I left the force, he was my mentor, taught me the ropes.’ 

Danny nodded, ‘so this is an anomaly. We’re getting somewhere. Maybe if we push hard enough, we’ll get somewhere. Kono, go and dig up a list of all the cases that John McGarrett was working on, and get me the complete dossier on the man, especially his movements in the last few weeks.’ 

‘Yes, Danny,’ and with that, she had left the room, Danny turned to Chin, ‘okay, being a police officer, I assume that John had made his fair share of enemies on the force,’ Danny put down the black marker and picked up the red one, before circling the names of Takamoto, Kaulani and Kang. 

‘Go to the HPD and dig out everything you can on all the victims, try to see if there is any deeper connection between them all, their movements, everything. I want the book.’ 

‘Got it, Danny,’ and mirroring Kono earlier, he was soon out of the room too, and Danny heaved another sigh, before squeezing his way around the desk and sitting in the seat Kono had sat earlier, next to Steve, who’s eyes still remained locked on Danny all this time. 

With a muted thud, he sat down, and turned to look at Steve, ‘so what are you doing tonight?’ 

‘I figured I’d go out for a bit. Get out for a while.’ 

Danny stared, and raised an eyebrow, ‘and I suppose in your language that is analogous to getting rip roaring drunk?’ 

‘I want to get that image out of my head,’ Steve sighed, tearing his eyes away from Danny as he looked up at the ceiling, as if the peeling paint was very interesting, but Danny knew better. 

‘Talking about it would help, help to ease the fucking huge metric tonne of crap weighing down on your chest,’ Danny reached over across the desk to retrieve his lukewarm coffee, and took a sip before continuing, ‘c’mon soldier, what happened to all the talk of _the importance of new experiences_ crap you were mouthing off about earlier?’ 

Steve scoffed at that, but his voice remained level, ‘please Danny, I don’t want to talk about it.’ 

‘It’ll make you feel better.’ 

‘No it won’t, and it’s _Navy_.’ 

‘Huh?’ 

‘I was in the Navy for a year before I became a police officer-’ 

‘-You are not, a police officer, that is.’ 

Steve swung his around to look at Danny, ‘I am an employee of the Honolulu Police Department, therefore I am a police officer.’ 

‘Your logic needs work. Do you carry a gun?’ 

‘No I don’t, but I carry a tool box full of sharp implements that I can use to stab people.’ 

 _Good,_ Danny thought, as they settled down into this well beaten rhythm, which came to Danny as naturally as breathing. _We’re getting somewhere._  

He snorted, ‘as if you would seriously stab people. Police officers carry guns, but you don’t, so you’re not one,’ he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, extending an invitation. 

There were a few beats of silence, but then something seemed to click in Steve’s mind, and it caught up with the game that Danny was playing, and accepted the unspoken invitation, the serious tension etched in his face disappearing a little bit. 

‘I help uphold the law; I help solve crimes and put criminals behind bars. That sounds pretty much like a police officer to me,’ Steve quipped. 

‘That’s pretty much what I do too, but you don’t wear a uniform. No black shirt and utility belt and trousers for you,’ Danny retorted. 

‘Neither do you.’ 

‘But I never claimed that I was one, babe. I’m a _Detective_ ,’ Danny blinked slowly at Steve, amusement causing the corners of his mouth to twitch upward. 

‘So then what would you call me?’ he asked playfully. 

Danny actually scoffed, ‘a Forensic Specialist, sheesh. What the fuck do you tell people when they ask you ‘what do you do?’’ 

‘I tell them that I am a _doctor_.’ 

‘See, even you yourself don’t call yourself a police officer, ergo, you are not one,’ a smug grin crossed Danny’s face, and Steve rolled his eyes, ‘I can also imagine that that must go down a treat with the ladies.’ 

Steve gave him what could only be described as a dirty look, and Danny found himself laughing as the tension disappeared in the room, to be replaced with something lighter, more playful.

‘You know very well the type that I go for, Danno,’ Steve’s voice had gone soft and dropped so low that Danny had to lean in to hear the last word, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as the lingering traces of his worry and anxiety leeched out of him, as Steve used this opportunity to press him close in a hug. 

‘Thank you, Danno, really, for everything,’ in that soft voice of his, that damn soft smile back on his face again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to tell me what you think in a comment. I won't bite :)


	17. The Storm Looms Off The Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, at this stage the number of proposed chapters in 'Tornado' has gone up by three chapter to twenty three because I could actually finish this in twenty, but then it would be hugely rushed, which is never nice.
> 
> I would also like to take this opportunity to thank all of the people who have consistently been there and offered me feedback ever since I embarked on this process of writing, you know who you are :P
> 
> Happy reading!

Steve had left the office after that, mumbling something about needing to do some ballistics tests on the bullet and iron out some creases in the lab report where there were a few loose strings.

‘Easy tiger, or you might end up re-writing the whole thing,’ Danny warned.

‘Maybe I will,’ Steve smiled weakly back (there was a cheekiness to it though, no doubt), ‘I’ll see you at the front after work, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ Danny blew Steve a kiss, at which he chuckled and left the room, clicking the door shut behind him.  

Danny had a few moments to himself before his phone rang for the second time that day. The familiar _Psycho_ shower scene music told him who it was, and he answered it without a beat’s pause, realizing that it was indeed Friday, and Rachel ringing at this time of night was never a good thing, he sighed, and answered.

‘What, Rachel,’ making sure that his voice sounded properly put upon.

‘Danny, I’m afraid that you won’t be getting Grace this weekend’ she shot back, her voice clipped as if she was gearing herself up for another fight, which, quite frankly, was a very good idea as most of Danny’s semblance of goodwill towards her flew out the window.

‘What gives? Come on, why are you telling me this now, the night before-’

‘She has a camping trip tomorrow,’ Rachel cut across icily, ‘as such, she won’t be on Oahu anymore, but she’ll be in Hilo.’

He tried to keep the note of frustrated irritation out of his voice and snapped back, ‘you should have told me!’ he cleared his throat, that hadn’t come out sounding so good, ‘you should have told me,’ he repeated, much smoother and softer.

‘I just did,’ the note of petulance loud and clear in her voice.

‘This is…ridiculous,’ he was about to say ‘fucking’ but barely managed to stop it from coming out, knowing Rachel and the type of woman she could be, he wouldn’t put it past her to record all of their conversations and store them away as ammunition against him when it was time to review their custody arrangement.

Feeling a bit like Mel Gibson, he continued in a forced level tone, ‘I am very sure that this camping trip did not just drop off a tree, there must have been planning involved, and you must have had more time than this to tell me, which you should have.’

‘I am telling you know, before which is the point,’ she retorted, ‘not during, not after, but before. Which is more than I can ever say for you.’

It had been awhile since they really tore into each other, but Danny was left feeling defeated, all the same. It didn’t matter that he was Grace’s Danno and that he was doing the best he could, the fact was that he didn’t have permanent custody, Jameson’s words coming back to haunt him when he asked for it, and the best that he could hope for was… _this_.

 _‘We both know that is not what is best for your daughter.’_

‘Rachel,’ his voice hardening, ‘do _not_ dredge up that old history between us, okay,’ he blew out a breath, ‘thank you for telling me, but in the future, please kindly give me more notice,’ he really tried, but he couldn’t keep the edge out of that last bit, his voice dripping with bitterness.

‘Sure,’ she answered sarcastically, ‘I’ll give you two weeks notice then,’ and hung up.

He threw the phone on the table in front of him, picked up a pen and a writing pad (technology had never been his strong point) and walked over to the sofa, where he sat down and picked up John McGarrett’s HPD service file and thumbed through it critically.

Discounting Steve’s inability to remain completely unbiased (it was his fucking father, for goodness sakes) Danny discovered that Chin was right, the man was a model police officer, with a long list of citations and two solved cases to his name.

But then Danny also discovered many things, small interesting things about Steve and his family, and something small and warm burgeoned inside him.

Steve had grown up in that old weatherboard house, he had a sister named Mary, whose last known address was listed as Los Angeles, his mother had died in a car accident when the fuel tank had blown up, and John had thrown himself into his work, all the better to not think about it (Danny completely understood).

His phone rang again, but there was no _Psycho_ theme, only the standard ringing, he picked it up, saw ‘Chin Ho Kelly’ on the screen, and answered it.

‘Go, Chin.’

‘Danny, I’m down at HPD here, and just finished speaking to one of John’s former friends, a Detective Chinnough Kaloni – you’re not going to believe this.’

‘What, Chin?’

‘John had been coming down here for the past two weeks, doing a little digging into his wife’s death, saying that he had new leads.’

Danny’s grip on the pen he had been holding tightened as he jot everything down, phone cradled in the space between his shoulder and the side of his face, ‘right, he had reopened the case?’

‘Unofficially,’ Chin confirmed, ‘he was semi-retired after all. Chinnough says that he tried to sell him the ‘old retired policeman hobby’ act-’

‘-When has that ever worked?’ Danny scoffed.

Chin laughed, the sound good and warm across the phone, ‘yeah, but he could tell that John was really serious about it.’

‘When was the last time that he spoke to John?’

There was a brief pause as Chin thumbed through his little black pocket book, the pages ruffling, ‘that would have been last Monday. Phone call, John said something along the lines that he was getting somewhere with this.’

Danny’s interest was piqued, ‘okay Chin, good work. Can you also go to the squad rooms and just hang loose there, see if you can dig anything else out from this, maybe someone else knows something.’

‘Will do, Danny. Bye.’

‘Bye.' 

Danny put the phone down and turned to the section that held the report into Steve’s mother’s death. He turned past the paperwork which stated the coroner’s findings, which said that the body had been burnt to a crisp when the car went up in flames.

According to this, the accident occurred when Steve was just 6 years old, in 1982. Steve’s mother, a woman by the name of Diane, had just gotten into the car one morning and started the engine when it exploded, with lab analysis confirmed that the explosion had occurred because of faulty wiring inside the engine where the spark plugs hooked up to the fuel tank and the electrical charge caused the whole thing to explode. All explainable by incorrect circuitry wiring when the engine was completely overhauled by a mechanic. 

It would have looked pretty clear cut and dry to anyone that had been looking, it even made sense (though in no way was Danny a car buff) but Danny sensed something a bit off about these sets of facts, his Detective instincts told him to keep looking.

It took him three more complete viewings of the file before he noticed it. He almost didn’t because it was exceptionally subtle, and the type of thing you wouldn’t blink twice at unless you were peeling the pages with a magnifying glass, only if you were careful, and honestly, it was very definitely possible.

But the niggling feeling at the back of his mind wouldn’t let go, and it soon paid off.

It was unusual that the car, a 1977 Ford Mercury Marquis would need a complete engine overhaul, these overhauls were more for classic cars that were about fifty years old instead which were totally shot and on the verge of going kaput.

Definitely not for new cars, or cars as new as this, anyway.

So why then, did a 5-year-old car, need a complete engine overhaul?

Danny dragged the office phone closer to him, and dialed the number for the DMV, and requested a total printout of everything they had on file on John McGarrett’s car. Five minutes later, the fax was spitting out copies of all of the registration forms on the car, and Danny had to pull out a new manila folder and label it ‘Car’ so that he had a place could shove all the licensing and registration paperwork in. 

He ripped the paper out of the fax machine and sat down to read, a hand snaking out to grasp at the cup of coffee beside him and take a sip. The documentation revealed the car’s vehicle identification number, date of registration, condition report and various other miscellaneous things, and soon Danny was on the phone to the Ford Head Office in Detroit and parroting out the VIN to the operator on the other side, requesting a complete history of all the service history and repairs on the car. 

‘Ford Motors, this is Eva speaking, how may we help you?’ 

‘Hi, my name is Detective Danny Williams, Hawaii Five O state police, and we’re trying to trace the history of a 1977 Ford Mercury Marquis sedan.’

‘In the 1970s Ford had not established service centres in the Hawaiian Islands,’ she spoke frostily, ‘servicing was still outsourced completely, the car just had to be taken to any repairer to be fixed.’ 

‘Do you have any records on the car with the vehicle identification number’ Danny quoted the number, ‘on your system?’ 

‘Our computerized records do not go back that far,’ she stated flatly. 

‘What about physical records, hardcopy?’

‘They would be down in our file vaults,’ from the tone of her voice he could tell that she really didn’t want to go down there and dredge them up. 

‘Listen,’ he said firmly, ‘the car with this vehicle identification number is very important in an investigation we are conducting at the moment, and we would appreciate all the help you can give us. We need that information.’ 

‘I do not have the time,’ she replied, ‘to go and dig out this file for you, we are up to our ears with the massive Corporate layoffs at the moment. There is not enough time to go deep down the paper trail, I’m sorry.’ 

He sighed, ‘you can make time,’ he asserted, ‘once I go to the Attorney-General John Manicote, and get a subpoena for the documents. Now, you have the power to save me from all this trouble,’ he paused, hoping like hell the shameless name drop worked, and that _maybe_ he owed Manicote a beer, maybe, ‘and maybe stop your superiors from hearing how you _refused to cooperate_ with a major police investigation.’ 

She audibly swallowed, and Danny could hear her throat clicking and the cogs turning in her head. 

He went in for the kill, ‘I will also be forced to file an official complaint against you, Eva,’ he went for nonchalant at this stage, knowing that by using her name added that extra level of threat, ‘and I’m sure that Corporate would seize any opportunity to downsize gratefully given this economic climate we are in.’ 

Sensing victory, although a part of him twisted at the knowledge that appealing to common sense, to decency, to the humane instinct to help out one another no longer worked, but bullying and threatening and frank abuse of power was now the way to go, he spoke coolly into the phone, ‘now when will you have an answer for me?’ 

‘I’ll head down to the file vaults right now,’ she answered quickly, and I will call you back as soon as I have found the files.’

‘Don’t bother,’ he replied, just fax them to me and please make sure that it is attention-ed to Danny Williams. Can I also grab your direct number?’ 

‘(313) 555-1000’ she answered within a heartbeat, ‘and I need your fax number please.’ 

‘(808) 732-5578. Thank you for your help Eva, good afternoon,’ and he hung up.

He took a moment to catalogue his thoughts and discoveries. 

John McGarrett through fate or whatever else compelling him, must have gotten bored in his retirement and decided to reopen his wife’s accident file and noticed something strange, prompting him to reopen the case and ask for help from his friends at HPD. He must have made a discovery of sorts, something which was a little bit too close for comfort for someone with very high stakes to lose should the truth get out, and John McGarrett was killed for it, simple as that. 

But now, he had to find Steve in his lab. He had some questions for the man and dearly hoped that Steve could help him.  

***

Steve had just gotten back into his lab, and slammed the door shut, before wearily walking over to the workbench, and taking the gun and gloves out and putting them into the red toolbox, closing the lid with a loud metallic clatter. He went past the office space into his private bathroom to wash his hands and splash some water onto his heated cheeks. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and came face to face with a scowling version of him, dark circles under his eyes and water dripping down his chin. He grabbed a paper towel and wiped his face and hands perfunctorily, before tossing it into the bin. He braced his hands on the counter as he reviewed the events of the afternoon.

This afternoon had been one of so many dead ends. He had every plan of going out to the HPD squad rooms and maybe moonlighting with them just a bit, to dig out more information about his father’s investigation into his mother’s death. Steve’s heartstrings tugged at all the memories that were thrown to the forefront, and he clamped down hard on the wave of sadness and regret that washed over him. His plans were disrupted by Chin who was stationed there, probably on Danny’s orders, just shooting the breeze with the fellow cops looking like he was having a great lark about it all. There was no way that Steve could let Chin see him, no way that he could let Danny catch onto the fact that he was doing a little investigation of his own.

Sure, it could probably be considered normal, given the circumstances, but Danny was already complicating things a great deal for Steve, and he knew that there had to be some way to throw Danny off the trail. Steve recognized that Danny was a very capable Detective and he was the type that not afraid of hard work, not afraid of doing what needed to be done, sleeves rolled up and that damn tie clipped to his shirt.

However, a small part of Steve wanted to open up to Danny, to let him in and have him around. He was a great guy, and even better in bed (which was always good) but the fact that he was so close to the root of Steve’s problems made him as dangerous and he was beautiful in his own heated way, and Steve’s alarm bells were ringing, telling him to put some distance between them, to stop it with this…thing they had going, because Danny was going to one day find out about Steve’s little night time recreational activities, and then the impact would be even worse than what would happen if a tornado met a volcano.

It would be a downright fucking disaster on a scale heretofore never seen before.

In the space of an afternoon Danny had managed to string together the possible Yakuza, Triad and Samoan connections to this case. He had enough thought of mind to connect to the fact that maybe his Dad had made enemies in the Islands with all of his police work (he had been stationed in Vice and Narcotics after all, two of the big moneymakers). The connections weren’t very strong yet, but Steve was sure that Danny would keep going, would keep nipping and biting and damn it not letting go until he had dragged everything and everyone out into the bright Hawaiian sunlight to burn.

He was sure of it as much as his name was Steven John McGarrett.   

For the first time (maybe in his life, realistically, since he was a kid) he found himself at a loss at what to do, and realized that he was in this way over his head, and there was no way that he could possibly extract himself from the situation with any hope of salvaging his freedom, for he was definitely going to jail for this, as a plea bargain was fucking redundant - he was guilty as charged, his reputation, his dignity. 

A dark maudlin laugh echoed around the blank walls. 

No hope of salvaging this thing with Danny. 

 _Danny_. 

What would he think? The thought and all of the implications of it continued to gnaw their way through Steve’s conscious thoughts until it could possible eat away at him for the rest of the afternoon, but he was broken out of his reverie when there was a knock on the door, which forced Steve to snap out of this morose train of thoughts and head back out into the office, arranging the mask the he had worn so well for most of his life back on his face as he grasped the door handle and pulled it open. 

 _Que sera sera,_ whatever will be, will be. 

***

Danny had the file on John McGarrett and his Mercury clutched in his hands as he rapped expertly on the door and ran a hand through his hair. Within a beat, Steve had opened the door and he found himself face to face with Steve, who merely stepped aside so Danny could enter his office. 

It was understandable that the office would not be airy at all because it was underground for the most part, but Danny was really surprised to see that it had an edge of coldness to it, all gleaming white and silver. It was really impersonal. He could see that the office was divided into two sections’ Steve’s desk where he would talk to people and his private lab, where the toolbox stood next to a computer and racks of test tubes and a microscope. There was nothing out of place and everything was properly catalogued, filed and sorted. 

‘Hey,’ Steve said in way of greeting, clearly nervous about something. 

‘Hey yourself,’ Danny could feel his lips pursing, and moved to sit down on the seat in front of Steve’s desk, mirroring what Steve usually did when he was up in Danny’s office. The silence is so thick between them that Danny could swear that a hot butter knife could cut through it. Steve settled down in his chair, pulling it closer to his desk before lacing his fingers together under his chin and peering expectantly at Danny, curiosity dancing in those hazel depths. 

Danny had no idea how to start; sure, he’d done this hundreds of times before, but not with Steve. He cleared his throat. 

‘I’ve discovered something interesting,’ Danny put the files on the table and slid them towards Steve, who was looking at him with something akin to panic, barely there, but Danny sensed it all the same, ‘I thought, well, you might like to know what it is.’ 

Steve was thankful that he was able to keep the tremor out of his voice and stop his hands from shaking, but his heart was still racing at 1000 miles an hour as the very real possibility that Danny had found out about his serial killings weighed on his chest like that metric tonne Danny had mentioned earlier. He took the files and came face to face with the very same file he had glanced at earlier on his Dad, but there was also a completely new file on his Dad’s old beat up Mercury. He raised an eyebrow. 

‘Danno, if you wanted to drive the car, you could’ve just asked me,’ putting an inflection of amusement in his voice, he slid the papers over to Danny, but kept the picture of the Mercury, still brand spanking new back in the day, clutched loosely in his hands, ‘no need to do all of this.’ 

Danny’s eye’s widened as excitement lit up his features, ‘wait, you still have the car? Didn’t it get blown to bits after the accident? Where is it?’ 

Steve sighed, ‘yes, I still have the car, its buried under the mountain of crap Dad had taken to storing in the garage,’ he paused as he tried to continue the best he could, even the idea sounding silly in his head, ‘it was the car that Dad bought for Mom to drive around. I don’t really understand why, we never really talked my, Dad and I’- he realized by this point he was babbling a bit, but it actually felt good to say all this stuff, to have someone who was willing to listen to it –‘and er, yeah, the car was pretty much reduced to a bare metal frame after the accident but Dad restored it to brand new condition, but he never drove it,’ he laughed darkly, ‘he spent more time with it, working on it, fucking _speaking_ with it, more than he did with Mary and I combined. But why Danno, why do you want to see it?’ 

Danny was practically abuzz with energy at this stage, as if he was really restraining himself from bouncing around on the seat, and even beyond the morose nature of Steve’s thoughts, Danny’s excitement was infectious and he soon found himself piquing up a little. 

Danny answered soon enough though, ‘I was looking through the accident report earlier on, you know’ and Steve nodded for him to continue, ‘and I noticed how your Dad had reopened the case-’ 

‘-but Mom died in an accident when the petrol tank exploded-’ 

‘-Let up, McGarrett,’ Danny warned, a smile on his face, ‘let me have my moment.’ 

When nothing came forward Steve raised an eyebrow, and Danny sighed. 

‘So,’ he continued, ‘your Dad had been poking his nose in this case, and according to sources at the HPD he had made a breakthrough but before he could make any move on it, he was killed.’ 

Danny may have been over himself with the discovery, but he was still with it enough to see that Steve’s jaw was working itself and the hands clutching the photograph tightened their grip, knuckles turning white. A troubled expression stole over Steve, his eyes darkening and Danny could have slapped himself. 

 _Steve had just found out today, rather harshly that both his parents had been killed._  

And Danny, completely elated over this potential break, had failed to realize that of course this was going to have long standing repercussions for Steve, who looked completely shell-shocked by now, the photograph sliding out of his hands as his grip relaxed. 

‘Hey,’ came Danny’s voice, enticing, coaxing Steve out of this train of thought, ‘I’m sorry man. I got really carried away,’ Danny leaned over the length of the desk and planted a chaste kiss which tasted of _I’m sorry, Steve_ on Steve’s lax lips, ‘but this is the first real break we’ve had in anything. We’re getting somewhere.’ 

After a few moments, Steve spoke up, ‘but where are we going, Danno? I admit that this is all stuff fitting for a cop crime show, but what does this have to do with finding the serial killer?’ 

‘I don’t know yet, Steve,’ Danny murmured truthfully, running a hand through his hair, ‘but I can tell that there is a connection there, someway, somehow, and I’m going to drag it out into the open, even if it’s the very last thing I do. I’m good at my job, you know,’ his voice rising in an amused lilt at the last part. 

Steve managed a weak smile, ‘I never said you were.’ He glanced at the clock, which now read 7.25pm. ‘Shit, we were supposed to go home at 6pm,’ he leveled his gaze at Danny, before it morphed into an amused smile, ‘I better get reimbursed for this.’ 

Danny scoffed, ‘you want overtime? You’re a _doctor_ , you don’t need more money. If anything, I should be the one getting paid overtime.’ 

‘You’re the boss, nothing is stopping you,’ Steve shot back. 

‘I’m subject to Jameson, she is my boss. Not the big kahuna, here.’ 

‘Though you wish you were.’ 

‘Quite.’ 

‘How is Jameson, by the way?’ 

‘Avoiding me like the plague,’ a flash of white teeth, this time Danny’s, ‘I like it better this way. So, you still going out to get wiped off your face tonight?’ 

‘Why, you’ve got something better planned?’ Steve queried. 

‘Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,’ Danny replied carefully, ‘what’s it to you if I do?’ 

‘You’re evading the question.’ 

‘Good work, detective.’

‘Hey, I’m merely the Forensics guy, you’re the detective, just saying.’ 

‘So are we going to be leaving here soon? Normal people get hungry especially if they haven’t had anything for breakfast since a _protein shake_ and maybe several hundred cups of coffee.’ 

Something warm and comfortable settled in Steve’s chest and he felt the previous weight, heavy enough to choke off all air, disappearing. When Danny looked at Steve he didn’t see a serial killer, or a terribly damaged, conflicted person with so many issues he could write a book on them, he just saw Steve as, well, he didn’t really know, but something, _someone_ that he’d like to hang around, would want to talk to, listen to, spend time together. 

Steve found that sentiment touching, and made a promise with himself that no matter what happens, no matter if the shit really does hit the fan, no matter if one day the day came when Danny would be unable to look Steve in the eye for all the heinous things he has done, would walk away, leaving only the shell of a man and haunting memories of everything good and sweet and lovely between them, he would not let that thought distract him from the present, from now. 

Steve snorted, and surprised himself when the lilt in his voice soared through all the turbulent churning of emotions inside him, to shine out bright and dazzling them all with warmth, the lilt that only appeared, despite himself, when Danny was in the room, ‘you’re really demanding, you know that? You ready to go home, Danno?’ 

There was a very pregnant pause, when Steve realized that in that one sentence, he had given more of himself away in one fucking sentence than the annual psychiatric assessments had been able to dig out of him in the past ten years, wasn’t that a disturbing thought? 

The seconds dragged by more like hours as Danny considered this, and finally answered, ‘yes, let’s go home Steve.’ 

From then on, Steve knew that everything was going to be okay. 

Whatever will happen, will happen, and Steve will be there, with Danny in tow, all righteous indignation and anger, to greet it when it does, when the storm finally does break.   

*** 

In a nondescript part of Honolulu, on a nondescript street, in a nondescript house, three people sat around a table as cigarette smoke hung in a thick haze all round them, the ashtray all but overflowing. They were sequestered around a round table where the curtains (a thick heavy material) blocked out all the light, bathing them all in pitch-black darkness. Light beamed down from a single bulb, which formed a cone of white light around them, shining through the Waterford tumblers filled with fine cognac, the light making prisms dance on the surface of the table. They reclined in chairs pushed far away enough that the light didn’t illuminate their faces, but all that they knew about each other was that there were two Asian men and a Caucasian man. They couldn’t see anything of each other, other than their hands. From the depths of the darkness they could hear the sound of a woman pottering around in the kitchen, humming a soft tune as she worked. 

‘So the deed has been done,’ said the man wearing the gold signet ring on his pinky finger, his voice strict and commanding. 

‘Yes, it has all been taken care of,’ a rough voice laced with a heavy Irish accent replied. 

‘How has Steven responded?’ piped up the third, which had a mostly American accent, with some Chinese under it, judging by the way the man was rolling his ‘r.’ He was wearing nothing on his hands. 

‘He’s shocked, to say the least,’ replied the Irish accent, ‘He shouldn’t bother us anymore.’

‘Excellent,’ said the man with the signet ring, ‘gentlemen, are we ready to move into phase two of this operation?’  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to tell me what you think in a comment :) seriously I won't bite and I'll be over the moon if you give me a kudos.
> 
> Much love.


	18. Still Waters Run Deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm very sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out to you, because real life just refuses to back down, but I have managed to finish this one, and map out the ending for this story, and settle on a total Chapter count of 25.
> 
> Happy reading!

Danny was cruising the Camaro along the night time streets, which were full of Friday night festivities, people coming and going with their partners and lovers, hands laced as they went about their own business. He was glad that it wasn’t Saturday, the day when most families were out for the day, children hitched high up of their father’s shoulders, their laughter as bright and beaming as the warmth of the sun. Clamping down on the swell of sadness that arose whenever he missed an opportunity to spend with Grace, his thoughts turned increasingly to anger at Rachel, anger at the way cosmic forces were intervening to make his life a fresh hell, anger at how this was not supposed to be how it all went down, but still, the cards had been dealt, he’d made his bid and now all he could do was wait and maybe bluff his way into a solution.

If only life were as simple and defined by concrete rules as cards were.

Out of the corner of his eye, he kept stealing glances at Steve, where he could only see half of his profile, half obscured in shadow. Danny didn’t have to look too closely to see the thrum of nervous tension in the way he held his shoulders too stiff, in the way that he had not pioneered the keys to the Camaro as usual, in the way that the silence between them in the Camaro was so palpable that Danny was sure you could cut through it, in the fucking way that all of Danny’s malasadas were still in the fucking brown paper bag (the tally had not changed since Tuesday).

His mouth thinned into a grimace. He had managed to drag a bit of laughter and good humour (as much as can be given in the current circumstances anyway) out of Steve this afternoon, and things had felt almost normal again like how they did before that fucking phone call from Chin and the shit hit the fan, but Danny was intuitive enough to recognise that this was only a short term solution, that he would not be able to sustain this for long. Steve’s thoughts were commandeered by his father’s death, and Danny was sure that being constantly surrounded by reminders of it, either through going through the motions of the investigation or whenever he went home, to that big and outdated old weatherboard house, he wouldn’t have to look very far to be reminded of the loss of his father, which Danny knew had to hurt worse than a knife wound, where the blood was still pouring out, fresh and red and warm.

To Danny, Steve at this stage looked like he was retreating into himself, as how a child would do when they are scared, but here there is not a child with fresh tears on his face, the bloody knee still deep crimson in the sunlight, here was a man who had looked at death in the face, had seen firsthand the other side of humanity, the one squirreled away in the cupboard and only let out in the deepest darkest part of the night when you’re sure no one is looking, no one is paying attention, let go to run wild and free. Sympathy bubbled up, and Danny found himself sighing. For all the toughness in the wall of steely resolve and professionalism, Danny could recognize that a human being, one even more vulnerable than the standard person, lurked under the depths there. To him, Steve was completely drawn into the vacuum that was this whole fucking mess, and he himself was a mess, this level of obsession and guilt and whatever else was not fucking healthy at all.

But what was Danny supposed to do about it? He was caught up in this shit storm as much as Steve was, but Steve was his partner, and partners stuck through thick or thin, right? They held each other’s backs and did everything they needed to get the job done. He was pulling into Steve’s driveway when he made up his mind. Right, he wouldn’t be able to remove the problem (he was working on it, really) because it isn’t so simple as just removing the damn splinter and bandaging the injury up. No, desperate times called for desperate measures and Danny was going to do everything he could to stop Steve from thinking about it, from even acknowledging it.

That’s right, Danny was going to do his damned best to distract Steve from whatever is happening right now in his head. Right off the bat he knew that a microcosm of this magnitude wasn’t going to simply be pushed to the side with a few choice words and maybe a smile or two, but that there would be some serious sleeve-rolling and tie-clipping happening as he got his hands dirty.

But, before he could do that, he had to get what he could from John’s car.

He had just turned off the lights when Steve stepped out of the car and wandered up to the garage door, fishing his pockets for the ring of keys to the house. Danny watched his lithe profile as it bent down to unlock the roller door and push it up as he himself switched the ignition off and stepped out to join Steve.

Together they entered into the very cramped garage. Steve had not been kidding when he said earlier that it was full of crap. It was, in the special way that older people tended to prefer it as they hoarded things, refusing to throw them out despite being completely useless, insisting that it will come in handy for the future, in some way somehow. But Danny didn’t care, because Steve switched the light on, which buzzed into life overhead, flickering slightly, and Danny found his field of vision directed straight to the sliver of jet black poking out from under the cover of an old mottled drape of some kind.

With less gusto than it deserved, Steve whipped the sheet off the car, sending dust motes into the air, and Danny found himself staring at the sleek black body of the 1977 Ford Mercury, which sat there, gleaming in the dull light overhead.  Danny had the mad urge to run his hands along the sleek black paint and drag fingerprints on it, but managed to quell the impulse.

Steve was looking at the car with a mixture of sadness, resentment and something else which resembled pride (Danny couldn’t be too sure). He had the look of a man who wanted to touch it, but was afraid that to, for fear of damaging it, for fear that it was just an illusion that would disappear like sand through his fingers, like as if it were a forbidden object, the master long gone, but his terrible overbearing presence remained. Yes, Steve looked like he would want to touch the car, to look inside it, but his father’s memory was holding him back.

Danny rolled his eyes, ‘man up, McGarrett’ he bit out, ‘it’s not going to bite you.’

Steve laughed, and Danny could see some of the tension melt away in his stance and he stood in front of the door, his hand hovering just above the handle and finally did he pull it open the hinges of the door creaking slightly as if they had been well oiled before, but not now.

Whilst the exterior of the car was well polished and loved and looked brand spanking new, the interior was another matter. Danny could see that the seats desperately needed to be reupholstered (springs stuck out in four places) and he was sure that the engine would have been completely shot and the brake pedal was sunk way too low, indicating that the brake was not working. Steve bent down again and came back up with a red file that had been crammed in the small space between the floor and the carpet mats, just about where the pedals were. Danny bounded along to the passenger side and flipped open the door. After a few moment of poking around he came to the glove box which he pulled open, and found a tape recorder, with a minuscule tape inside it. He opened the recorder to pull out the tape, and held it up to the lighting, where there was nothing, the tape wasn’t even labelled.

He put it back in and pressed the play button.

‘ _There is no one that I can trust-_ ’ John’s voice floated out, crackly and filled with white noise, as if he had been whispering this message. Danny abruptly switched the thing off when he caught the look of pain in Steve’s eyes, and looked at Steve with the recorder clutched in his hand, and then the folder that Steve had clutched in his.

Fuck it. They’d been working this case, pushing pedal to the metal flat out and even Danny was beginning to feel really tired from it, weariness seeping in leaving him feeling sluggish, each movement heavy. But now in the silence of Steve’s garage when it was just the two of them, with no loud noises and flashing colours, he felt it acutely, and he was pretty damn sure that Steve felt absolutely chewed out at the moment, both physically and psychologically.

No doubt about it.

‘Unless I’m mistaken’ he began, and trailed off in that way which usually indicated that he was waiting for Steve (or anyone for that matter, Steve was an example) to finish the thought for him, but clearly, if the vibes of melancholy he was giving off at the moment were anything to go by, Steve was incapable of following any sort of intuitive conversation right now, so Danny decided to give the dog a bone, ‘we still haven’t eaten anything since the ass crack of dawn this morning, and you, right now, have proved my theory right, my friend.’ Danny gave Steve his best long-suffering expression.

Steve looked up and gave Danny what could only be described as a confused look, but emotion was simmering underneath those hazel depths, just waiting to be unleashed, his voice was rough with lack of use, he grated, with just a hint of the old Steve, a hint of menace in his voice ‘and what do you mean by that?’

‘You,’ Danny jabbed a finger squarely in his chest, relishing the hardness of Steve’s muscle underneath his shirt, ‘are a robot, no doubt about it, because by now, a normal human being would be pretty fucking hungry, hungry enough to eat anything. I am frankly amazed that we can still speak to each other, that we haven’t had to resort to sign language yet. Hell, I’m so hungry right now that I’d be willing to eat a fucking pineapple at the moment,’ he finished with a relish.

Amusement curled on Steve’s lip, twisting it upwards, ‘I am not a robot Danny, and you know that,’ Steve was looking at him intently, willing Danny to recognise, to remember the sensual experiences they’d shared yesterday, as the hard night’s journey into day began.

Danny got the message loud and clear, and was unable to stop his cheeks from growing hot. What was he? Sixteen?

Clearing his throat audibly, Danny forced himself to meet Steve’s gaze levelly, and bit out, in as much of a calm and collected voice as possible, given the current circumstances, ‘you could be a robot in disguise, you’re certainly acting like one at the moment.’

Okay, cajoling with Steve hadn’t worked, teasing him had not worked (not really), now it was the time to try anger, Danny was hoping that if he could push the right buttons, then maybe Steve will stop looking so much like a goddamn lost puppy and maybe return to a semblance of normalcy, and not let whatever was in his head at the moment continue to eat at him like this. It was to be expected, to a certain extent, but this was kicking the bucket too far, this was _unhealthy._

Irritation bloomed and Danny could see the beginnings of Aneurysm face, and knew that he was on the right track. He just had to push a little harder. He just prayed that Steve didn’t push him away or anything, because he realised that he was actually being a massive prick about it all, but the ends justify the means, he had always believed.

Always.

Bingo. ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ Steve was fully glaring at him at the moment, his fingers scrunching up and tightening, the paper of the file crinkling underneath those strong fingers.

Danny sighed. ‘Look, ever since,’ he waved his hands as if willing Steve to understand ‘John’s death’ and judging by the look he was giving him, it had worked, the hard gaze softening just a little, he continued ‘well, you need to take a break.’ There, he had said it. It was out in the open.

Steve eyes were still intently fixed on Danny, but the edge of tension that had reappeared disappeared again, and his next words, after a few careful beats of silence were, and something broke in Danny at the note of softness, at the _defeat_ in them, clawing up his chest, into his throat ‘Danny, I’m sorry for dragging you into all of this, and you should go home. Go-get something to eat, go take a shower, go change your clothes, go-’

‘I don’t want to fucking go!’ Danny bellowed, all but roaring the last part and barely clamped down on saying the next few words _because I want to be here with you._

Alright, from what he had seen so far, Steve was clearly a few apples short of the basket when it came to anything emotional, sure, he was kick arse in the professional and collected sense, the best there ever was, but when it came down to human interaction, he was still straws too short of the crowd. Danny ran his hand through his hair. Danny himself was no master at emotions either (Rachel and Grace and _please don’t leave me, don’t do this to me_ ), but for Steve to survive in the world as it is must have been some sort of _idiot savant_.

He breathed noisily for a few moments, collecting his thoughts, before beginning again. He had seen that the last part had gotten through to Steve, and the wounded puppy thing he had happening had diminished a bit, a little, but still disappeared nonetheless, and Danny opted for his last and final strategy, the one that he had the most to lose from, the Hail Mary pass.

Fuck it, he was all in at this stage.

‘Let me make something clear to you,’ Danny was amazed at how his voice still sounded relatively normal (well, to him anyway), ‘you are an A-grade idiot if you think that for one second I am just going to walk out of here and leave you in all of this’ he waved his hands around, indicating the general doom and gloom loneliness of the large nature of the house, where there was nothing to come home to except cold, distant memories, ‘because that’s not what partners do for each other. We’re partners, Steve. Partners stick by each other to the very end, through thick or through thin, we’ve got each other’s back,’ he looked at Steve, willing him to understand, ‘I’ve got your back Steve, so please. Stop doing this to yourself, take a break before you run yourself to the ground.’

Somewhere during his little spiel Danny had averted his eyes, finding that he did not want to see what would be lurking on Steve’s face. What he had just said was probably the most honest he’d been about anything for a while, and from everything that he had said so far, he was off in the deep end with this thing with Steve, with no way back. He couldn’t meet Steve’s unwavering gaze at this moment, couldn’t bring himself to look in those hazel eyes and see the lack of understanding there, see that Steve was incapable of understanding, and that was too horrible a thought to bear-

But he didn’t have to bear it anymore. Danny soon found himself ensconced in a tight hug by Steve, and took a moment to savour the way Steve’s arms were warm and firm and strong, like an anchor during a violent storm as he pulled Danny closer, and Danny automatically found his arms raising of their own accord to envelope Steve as well. For the first time that day, Danny felt he could breath a little easier, as the warmth from Steve’s body and that scent that was so unique to him, as gentle and calming as the ocean tide as it rolled into shore, washed over Danny, and he felt at peace with everything as the last harrowing vestiges of weariness drained away.

Steve let go, and regarded Danny for a few moments, his hands clutched loosely on the fabric of Danny’s shirt where his biceps were, Danny could tell that he was trying for a jovial voice, but there was an underlying nerve of rawness there, and Danny found that he wanted to kiss him, but now was not the time (it was time for the taking of toast and tea), ‘you make it sound like we’re married or something.’

Danny had no answer for that, so he changed the topic, ‘c’mon, lets go get something to eat. I bet you’ve been running on adrenalin all day, and I know that coming down from _that_ rush is never pleasant.’

Steve minutely nodded, and together they pulled the cover over the Mercury, Danny seized the tape recorder and the file, and Steve obediently followed him out but automatically but headed back out up the front to the door whereas Danny popped the boot to the Camaro and put the files and tape recorder inside a plastic bag and stowed in under the flap thing where the spare wheel is kept. He closed the boot with a thud and turned around and saw Steve in front of the door, halfway inside. Light was spilling out from the hallway outside, creating a wide arc of brightness in the dark, which didn’t quite reach Danny. He raised an eyebrow.

‘And where were you heading off to?’ Danny queried.

‘Going inside, maybe getting a pizza or two, and some beer,’ Steve offered helpfully.

‘Okay, I am going to be very nice about this and very gracious about it-’

Steve snorted, ‘as if you could be gracious about anything, you’ve been complaining nonstop about pineapple every time I’ve opened my mouth.’

‘Shut up. You and pineapple seem to be a two for one deal, and I am sensible enough to recognize that this is probably as good as it’ll get, and pineapple is a very small price to pay to get the rest of the package, ‘ he took a chance to let his eyes roam over Steve’s body, ’and it’s not my fault if you have bad taste.’

Steve laughed, ‘oh that’s rich, coming from you.’

The eyebrow shot higher and he crossed his arms, closing the door of the Camaro and leaning on it, peering intently at Steve, ‘share with the class, please.’

‘I’m sure if you could, you’d probably live on malasadas all the time. You go through seven a day-’

Danny’s voice had risen in pitch considerably, filled with indignation, ‘what, you’ve been counting how many I’ve been eating? That’s…’ he trailed off running a hand through his hair as he had no way of finishing that thought in a way which preserved his dignity. He actually found it touching, and a feeling of fondness stole over him, Steve, in his own weird and slightly amusing way, was showing that he cared, and that warmed the cockles of Danny’s heart, it really did.

Steve gave him a dirty look, and scoffed, ‘don’t pretend that you haven’t been secretly keeping a tally of how many missing ones, undoubtedly assumed that I would have eaten them, nonetheless,’ he hiked up his eyebrow, challenging Danny to say no, ‘as if I’d eat those things, they’re so bad for you.’

Danny rose to the occasion magnificently. ‘You should be reimbursing me for the loss in expenses as the full utility of the goods was never realised’ he side-stepped, enjoying watching the cogs in Steve’s brain work as he grasped at straws, and resolved to do one more crossword everyday on top of the one in the _Honolulu Advertiser._

‘I was doing you a service,’ Steve offered gamely.

Danny had opened his mouth but his stomach rumbled, really loudly and he was sure Steve heard it too, as the amusement flashed in his eyes, ‘come on inside Danno, the beer’s cold.’

Danny shook his head. It was one thing for a quiet evening inside, but it was a Friday, and he hadn’t been out on the town in a long while (though of course he would have preferred to have Grace for the weekend, but beggars can’t be choosers). Not to mention that there was something slightly unnerving about loitering around a place that held so many memories of John McGarrett, to turn a corner and see his fucking favourite chair, and Danny was cognizant of the fact that that would definitely not be the way to go, and Steve would once again be sucked into the vacuous pit of despair and grief that Danny had just managed, barely, to get him out of.

‘I’m taking you out for a night on the town sweet cakes,’ Danny opted for cocky, ‘c’mon, get inside.’

Steve stared at him, aghast ‘did you just call me sweet cakes?’

‘Maybe I did,’ Danny replied carelessly, ‘come _on,_ let’s go have some fun. Take a breather, unload the case burden, whatever you want to call it.’

Uncertainty lit Steve’s features, and Danny was sure that he was resisting the mad urge to hide behind the front door right now, which was downright embarrassing for a thirty something year old.

Danny sighed, ‘look, we are just going to go and have some dinner, maybe drive around a bit. You know, do fun things, things that people would want to do, and no, work does not count. Don’t give me _that_ look. Work is only a means to an end. Anyway, is that alright with you?’

Steve replied, ‘I guess so.’

‘Well, hurry up then,’ Danny made a move to get into the drivers seat, and soon enough, when Steve was in the passenger seat with his seatbelt buckled up and they were cruising along the street, before Danny continued, ‘it can’t hurt to get out for a breath of air, every once in a while, you get me?’

Steve’s expression was as blank as ever, ‘breath of fresh air?’

Danny sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time today, ‘what I’m trying to say is, you should go out, get away from everything completely bad and sad, and just relax. Stop thinking about it. Unwind. Whatever you Hawaiians call it.’

Steve’s lip twitched, as if he was trying to repress laughter, ‘unless I’m wrong, so are you.’

Danny found a spot to park and they wandered down the night time streets of downtown Honolulu, where couples and people were milling out, clearly still enjoying the night time markets which were on at the moment, the streets awash with vibrant colours, the exotic smells and sounds and food made the place come alive, coming apart the seams with life. They eventually wondered into a seafood restaurant that made into that annual recommended eateries listing, and settled for a table at an alcove secreted in the corner.

The restaurant, called _Fish and Bird_ was rather empty tonight, with only three or four other tables besides Steve and Danny, but they didn’t object, because they had only retreated in here when the bright colours and loud noises became a bit too overbearing. It was a homely sort of place, with various beach themed knick-knacks in various locations around, like little surfboards propped on racks and very liberal use of the sand motif such that Danny would have objected on principle to being here (fucking sand) but he was hungry enough to forgo it this once.

Danny took a sip of his newly ordered hand squeezed lemonade, wishing like hell that he could drink a beer but his damn ethics would let him (don’t drink and drive his brain had all but hollered when he peered down the wine list). He grimaced as whoever had made this had not put enough sugar in it, the sourness and acidity of the soda water rather refreshing nonetheless. He peered from above his straw where Steve looked resolutely disappointed.

 

He put his glass down. ‘Steve, I wanted you to be relatively sober for the rest of this evening, can you do that for me?’

Steve leveled his hazel gaze at Danny, who resolutely stared back, ‘I remember mentioning that I wanted to get piss stinking drunk tonight. A beer will not cut the mustard, but shots of vodka might. Maybe a hundred.’

Danny scoffed, ‘by all means, nothing’s stopping you, just tell yourself that when you wakeup in a ditch somewhere with no underpants with a hangover the size of a small country,’ he brought the straw back to his lips, taking a few sips before continuing, ‘there are plenty of other ways to get your mind off things’ he replied cryptically, ‘let me show you.’

Steve replied, with a liberal dosing of sarcasm, ‘my, I am humbled, really.’

Danny glared, ‘fuck you.’

‘You sure have confidence in your skills’ Steve paused for a moment when the waitress came by and put Steve’s grilled seafood platter and salad on the table before shuffling off, ‘and I’m already dreading what you’re going to be putting me through tonight. Actually, I think that either way, I may very well still end up in a ditch with no underwear without the hangover tomorrow anyway. I dare you to deny this.’   




Danny looked at Steve squarely in the eye and replied seriously, ‘I wouldn’t do that to you. Well,’ his lips curved upward in a warm smile, ‘you wouldn’t end up in a ditch. There are much better places to dispose of a body.’

They paused yet again as the waitress bustled forward to place Danny’s seafood basket on the table, and Danny noted with no small amount of glee the way Steve’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of all the way the oil way practically dripping off everything (it was all deep fried by the way) and the small pots of what Danny assumed were different types of mayonnaise.

He dipped a finger into a pot and brought it to his mouth, and sighed with happiness at the way the flavours of garlic and herbs were flecked through the mayonnaise, he hadn’t realized that he had closed his eyes until he reopened them, and found Steve staring at him openly, interest clear as day in his eyes.

‘I should be worried now,’ Steve mused, half joking, half serious, ‘you just indicated as much that you have strong desires to inflict violence on my person.’

‘You’ll just have to wait and see what I have planned for you’ Danny replied as he moved his plate closer and picked up his knife and fork, Steve mirrored his actions. Danny was halfway through devouring his plate and had just dipped a piece of fried fish into the wasabi infused mayonnaise when Steve spoke.

‘Danno, are you trying to go for a world record or something?’ his face was scrunched up, a weird sort of in between thing that was somewhere between shock and dismay.

Danny stared back, and put his knife and fork down with a loud clatter, ‘what, you have a thing against my eating habits now?’

‘You bet I do.’

‘Great, first my ties, now this. Explain.’

‘I can hear your arteries clogging up from this side,’ Steve spoke after he had finished his bite of rocket, ‘I mean, its practically dripping onto the plate.’

‘It’s deep fried food, its supposed to drip. And my arteries are fine, thank you.’

‘Well, its not good for you, eat more vegetables,’ Steve said simply, resuming eating.

Danny stared, ‘a lot of things that aren’t good for you are freaking enjoyable, and delicious. I suppose if it were up to you everyone’d be eating celery and carrots.’

‘Nope, no nutritional content in those, not good enough.’

‘Gee, you’re a critic today, careful, you might hurt my feelings,’ Danny replied, spearing a bit of fish on his fork and dipping it in the tartare sauce before popping it in his mouth, chewing, ‘I’m very delicate.’

Steve snorted, ‘feelings? More like ego, if you must know. And a sharp prod every once in a while is good for it, stops you from getting a big head. My concern is purely medical, of course.’

Now it was Danny’s turn to snort, ‘unless I’m wrong, you’re no psychologist.’

‘Psychiatrist,’ Steve corrected.

‘Whatever, anyway, I’m touched at this positive sentiment to me. You and Grace should team up,’ Danny couldn’t help the wince as he had just squeezed too much lemon on his fish, and the damn thing was too sour.

Steve was smiling gently, ‘just how so? And is it really in your best interest to tell me this?’

‘Is it really in yours to warn me off?’ Danny queried.

‘Touche,’ Steve raised his bottle of beer in a silent toast to Danny, before taking a sip, ‘so tell me about Grace. Weren’t you supposed to pick her up today?’

‘She’s on a camping trip in Hilo, I think,’ Danny replied.

Steve’s mouth formed an ‘oh’ shape, ‘That’s tough man, I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘I’m coping the best way I can,’ Danny deadpanned, and Steve laughed.

A few beats of comfortable silence passed, where the finished their meal and sat back in the squishy chairs, sipping their respective drinks, savouring the good sort of tired feeling which only come after a good meal (the food was good, but nothing to write home about).

‘Glad I could be of service then,’ Steve said, amusement tinting his voice. A true, honest to goodness smile broke out on his face, and Danny was momentarily blinded by its warmth and radiance.

‘The feeling’s mutual, babe,’ Danny added.

Steve laughed some more, ‘anytime, anytime.’   




They finished their meals and when the bill had been paid (it was ridiculous, the way Steve kept insisting that he was going to pay, only to have forgotten his wallet in the car – Danny couldn’t stop laughing) they took to strolling the night time streets, where the crowds had thinned out considerably, allowing them to walk freely on the pavement, each step and stride in turn with each other and observe the stall which sold everything from jewellery to touristy knick-knacks like miniature surfboards (Danny picking up a regulatory one for Grace of course).

All in all, it was a lot of fun to walk along the night time street markets and enjoy the atmosphere, with Steve taking every opportunity to make Danny feel wholly inadequate due to the fact that he was not a local but merely a ‘mainlander with a tie fetish’ and by the end of it ‘shut up’ had become Danny’s new favourite phrase, and that smirk on Steve’s face was completely off-putting (to be honest).

They made it back to the car and were driving back to Steve’s place, and were reclining on two old deckchairs on the lanai, sharing a round of beer. They sat facing the ocean behind Steve’s house watching the ebb and flow of the tide as it came into shore, moonlight turning the water silver as they sipped their beer. The wind whooshed past them, blowing salt onto their faces, it was very refreshing.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Steve watching him. Danny raised an eyebrow, ‘what? Do I have egg on my face or something?’

‘Nope. Just thinking,’ Steve murmured.

‘Sharing is caring. Spill,’ Danny took another sip of beer, enjoying the way it chased down his throat and settled cooly in the pit of his stomach, he had had enough such that he was not drunk, but the edges of the world were mildly fuzzy and he felt somewhat please, relaxed and pretty satisfied. Judging by the empty bottles on the table, Steve wasn’t too far behind.

‘You’re really close to Grace. That’s a good thing.’

Danny put his beer, down. This was interesting. He stretched out languidly on the deckchair, savouring the way his bones creaked and twisted, and for once his bum knee was not giving him unending hell, a contented sound making its way out of his throat and looked at Steve carefully, ‘yes, I am. I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

‘She’s really lucky to have you as her Dad,’ Steve added sipping his beer.

‘Its pretty much only one of the things she has going for her,’ Danny mused, ‘she’s also got Rachel and Stan, she can have the best of everything, everything that I can’t provide her with.’  Wow, maybe the beer was slightly getting to him, even normally, he had very little control over what popped out of his mouth but he was pretty much saying anything that came to his mind at this stage, bloody hell.

‘She’s lucky,’ Steve repeated, the edges of his voice slurred a bit, his expression open and vulnerable, the kind which is only there when you are drunk but not passed out (quite yet).

Oh shit, Steve was drunk.

‘I mean, sure, I love my Dad and all that, but sometimes I wish that he would have just come home early. Just, well…’ Steve left the rest unsaid, but Danny understood it anyway.

Going for gentle, Danny merely stated, ‘I’m sure he was just working hard to make sure you had everything he asked for.’

Steve laughed, but it was low and dark, none of the mirth from the evening there. Hazel sought out blue, and he merely said, barely above a whisper, ‘do you know what I wished for, for every fucking birthday? I wished for more time with Dad. Every fucking year – and I never got it, the one thing I wished for.’

Danny’s eyes narrowed. Well, that explained a lot. Steve clearly had a lot of unresolved abandonment and loneliness issues and Danny had no idea what to say to that, but he was able to tell that Steve was nowhere near finished, so he waited in silence, nothing except the sounds of the ocean echoing around him.

Finally, Steve continued, ‘Dad and I were never close, sure, we were related, but, even now, we were no more that roommates, people who shared a house. He shut me out of his life, and I have no fucking idea why,’ anger crept into the last bit, and he took a deep swig of beer slamming it back down on the table, and Danny noted that his hand was shaking.

He blew out a breath, and gave Steve a few moments to collect his thoughts, before saying in a gentle voice, the same one that a person might use on a scared child, ‘he’s your Dad, Steve, no matter what. And I’m sure that he had his reasons.’

The sensible note broke through, and the anger faded, only to leave behind resentment, ‘I fucking doubt that.’

‘Once you have a kid of your own, you start to see things in a different light. Some people adjust to it better than others,’ Danny offered helpfully.

‘Yeah,’ Steve replied, allowing the silence to stretch between them for a few more moments.

Danny kept pushing on, ‘I’m sure your Dad did the best he could, I can tell you now that being a single parent isn’t exactly the world’s best job. You do what you can, and hope like hell it works. You can only do your best, and no more.’

Steve looked at Danny questioningly, before turning his gaze upwards, staring out into the ocean, onto the sandy shore, anywhere but Danny, his face half hidden in shadow from the light that still filtered past the curtain. He finally let go of the beer bottle, and brought the hand to rest on his lap, his gaze following it.  

‘You sound like you know what you’re talking about,’ Steve murmured after a few moments.

‘Don’t I always?’ Danny joked, running his hand through his hair.

Steve laughed, and Danny could tell, even in the dim light, that he was feeling better. Danny imagined that talking about it, whatever it was, always helped to get the weight off your chest, to make breathing just that bit easier, to ease the world off your shoulders, when it got to just that side of too much.

And he was glad to be proven right.

***

After they showered and washed and did things which one does tend to do before bed, they tumbled in between the sheets together, where Danny graciously allowed himself to be enveloped by Steve, his back pressed against the planes of Steve’s chest as Steve’s arm curled around Danny’s waist, pulling him closer to Steve. Danny felt like a lage overgrown teddy bear. Steve’s chin was digging slightly into his shoulder, but Danny didn’t mind, not really.

Danny was dead tired. Considering the romp this morning and last night, he really had no energy left, although he could stop his cock from twitching in a feeble attempt at interest. There was no overt desire for sex at this moment, the events of the day having leeched all energy and desire for it and Danny was quite thankful to just be able to lie here like this, and enjoy the warmth and comfort and everything else that was so distinctly Steve. He was sure that there would be plenty of opportunity to make up in the future, and found with no uncertainty that he was looking forward to it.

A thought nagged at Danny though, and he spoke out.

‘I will have to go home at some stage.’

Steve didn’t say anything, but the grip around Danny got tighter and soon enough he found his boxer clad bottom resting against Steve’s abdomen, just where his dick would be, and Steve started to rub against him slightly, undulating those hips of his against Danny, creating delicious friction, but Danny was having none of it, and pulled away, turning around to look at Steve, and saw the note of loneliness lurking there, the notes of wanting something so desperately and not being able to articulate (Danny had never had such a problem) what you wanted to say the most.

 _I don’t want you to leave._

Danny got the message loud and clear though, and said, ‘I’m not going anywhere, you big goof, what I meant is that I will probably have to go back there and get some new clothes, maybe bring some Kona coffee over while I’m at it. I mean, turning up to work in the same outfit three days in a row is a bit-’

He found himself being shut up by a kiss that was gentle and loving and tender, with none of the heat and ferocity and longing and passion that had become common in all of their kisses so far (Danny could never get tired of it, either way) and they kissed easily, like drinking water, before breaking apart, and Danny licked his lips.

 _I’m not going anywhere, babe._   

‘We can swing by there tomorrow,’ a smile lit up Steve’s features, ‘to get your stuff.’ Steve had moved closer to Danny and that damn arm was still draped lazily across Danny’s torso, and curled at the small of his back, where he could feel the ghost of the touch of Steve’s fingers.

‘Hmmm, that sounds like a plan to me,’ Danny murmured drowsily, before falling into sleep.

Steve took a few moments to regard Danny’s sleeping features, as his breath evened out and got a bit deeper, and a smile stole over him and he moved the hand on top of Danny to smooth away the strands of blonde hair which had fallen onto Danny’s face, and trail his hand along the plane of his face, his fingers catching on the slight stubble there.

***

When he was sure that Danny was off in the world of dreams (wherever that may be) and completely dead to the world, Steve snuck out of bed, pulled the covers over Danny’s sleeping form, and put on a pair of pants and shirt, fished the keys to the Camaro from Danny’s trouser pocket, before descending the stairs and retrieved the file and tape recorder from the boot, and coming to plop them on the dining room table next to his laptop from this morning, wait, yesterday morning as the clock had just ticked over 2am, and started to try and make sense of the jigsaw puzzle that his father had left behind for him.

The tape was actually a recording of John’s observations as he followed someone around for the day. He never mentioned on the tape who he was following, but judging by the way that the man (he was sure of it) was traipsing along Diamond Head and Hanauma Bay and eventually the fucking Iolani Palace, he was sure that his father had been investigating someone very, very big.

When he flipped open the folder, all doubt was washed away, and he found himself looking at a complete, hand written dossier on Hiro Noshimuri, the same Hiro Noshimuri who was also the chairman of the chamber of commerce and had very deep connections to everything that was respectable and legitimate on Oahu.

Steve flipped the pages, taking everything in detail.

John had apparently been investigating corruption in the police force after one of his new proteges had been kicked out of the force due to corruption claims (it didn’t say who it was, but Steve didn’t think it mattered much), and the possibility that there was a mole in the HPD. Steve noted that this investigation was one which occurred at around the same time of his mother’s death and ended 2 weeks after they laid her body down into the ground.

Steve was succinct enough to realise that there was a connection between the death of his mother and his father dropping his investigation, which was bolstered by the fact that the investigation was officially closed by the HPD and the rest of the files were held together in a cobbled way, completely different to the standard layout preferred by the HPD. As if John was grabbing everything before the case was closed, which indicated that the case was closed while it was still smoking.

There were memos and notes of Hiro’s meetings, and even snapshots of Hiro sitting outside for lunch or dinner or just walking around, that same signet ring of his shining bright white on his pinky finger, even in the photographs.

John had been able to piece together what Danny had so far, that there was an anomaly to to with the car which finally explained why John had not simply thrown it away, but had kept it by his side. The car was the same one that his mother had died in and he had restored it on the outside but kept the engine pretty much in the same condition (which was to say, not improved it at all) and Steve finally understood that it was just his way of staying close to his deceased wife, although in a rather macabre way, but who was Steve to complain.

He stood up and walked over to the kitchen and got out the jar of instant coffee and made himself a strong black one, because he resolved that from now on, he was going to do whatever it took to get to the bottom of this.  He turned the thoughts over and over in his head. Right, he knew that his father had uncovered some of Hiro’s shady dealings so far, but nothing that he could pin on the man to get a conviction because Steve was sure that the man was loaded enough to whitewash the fucking moon should the need arise.

After a few big gulps of burning hot coffee, he settled back onto the table and connected the scanner to the laptop. He started the tedious job of scanning all the documents his father had left him onto a computer, then a USB stick, then a remote access drive. He didn’t dare put it on the HPD file server, that would have been just pain stupid.

The rest of his questions were answered in the next few minutes, as he discovered that his father had come very close to exposing Hiro’s double standard, that beneath the façade of decency lurked a megalomaniac with a very wide streak of ruthlessness. Hiro was the kind of man to order personal attacks on someone just to preserve his own interest, the kind of man who did not blink twice at ordering the murder of  women and children, everything that Steve believed was fair and just just didn’t come into the picture with Hiro, and he felt the fucking penny drop when he turned onto the final page of the profile, and there was absolute silence as the scanner continued to scan and spit out documents and the computer whirred as it sent files everywhere.

John had gathered enough evidence to implicate Hiro in his mother’s murder. Danny was right, she hadn’t died in an accident to do with faulty wiring, but she had died because someone hot wired the circuitry such that when the engine clicked over, the energy surge went straight to the fuel tank, and could only have been done on purpose (no fucking mechanic worth his salt would make such a mistake) and it was all done so cleverly that unless you had specific knowledge of cars, you would not have been able to pick it up.

Rage boiled hot and heavy in Steve, and his jaw was working furiously as he read the rest of the page.

His father had also uncovered the true extent of the corruption in the HPD, from the way that the coroner and the forensic specialist employed before Steve (Whittaker was his name) had done a really dodgy investigation of the charred remains of the car.

He went straight onto the HPD Database and ran a search for Whittaker, so that he may have a little chat with the man, but any hopes of this were dashed as the computer reported that Whittaker was presumed to be dead, and the last sighting of him was 7 years ago when he went out for a morning swim. Whittaker had a sterling track record, but Steve noted that all of the cases he helped to crack were rather general in nature, that was they didn’t involve any political or corporate heavy weights. Just the standard killing and murder cases, that type of thing.

Steve snorted, the man was clearly dead and buried, and would be of no use to him.

He came to a decision. Hiro was going to die, even if it was the last thing that Steve ever did, no matter what the cost.

Above the stairs, still in bed, Danny rolled over, his hand reaching out to grasp for Steve, but only coming up with thin air, even in sleep, he frowned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to tell me what you think in a comment (all feedback appreciated) or give a kudos if you liked it!
> 
> Much love.


	19. Nine Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I have discovered that I'm really bad at sticking to plans, because I as I was typing this, planning it to be roughly 4,000 words, it grew legs and ran away to a grand total of close to 8,000 (not to mention taking twice as long).
> 
> Happy reading!

Saturday dawned wet and sudden, and found Steve sitting on the lone chair in Danny’s apartment as he moved back and forth, grabbing various things and muttering to himself. It was raining outside again, the sky completely blanketed by dark grey clouds as Oahu experienced another sudden rainstorm. From this vantage point, Steve was able to appreciate the nice view of Danny’s firm ass behind those trousers of his as he flitted everywhere, a ball of fast paced energy.

‘Stop ogling my ass, McGarrett, it won’t do you any good,’ Danny had just disappeared to grab yet another thing to throw in the small overnight bag he had thrown open on the still unmade bed, which was currently filled with an assortment of shirts, trousers and socks. The tie rack was mostly empty by now. From the other room he heard the sounds of drawers opening and closing, and soon enough, Danny re-emerged into the room with his arms full of singlets, more socks and underwear.

Steve raised an eyebrow, ‘are you planning on spending a year in the wilderness living rough?’ he leaned over and made a show of peering into the bag and pulling out some of the shirts stuffed in there.

Danny made a grab for the shirts and shoved them back into the bag, spilling socks everywhere and sighing as he bent down to pick them up ‘you can never be too prepared,’ he parroted off, which quite frankly, was ridiculous, ‘besides, do you see any sign of mountain climbing gear here?’

A smug grin broke out on Steve’s face, and he noted conspiratorially, ‘you could be hiding some there for all I know. Ropes could possibly fit in there, maybe a Swiss Army knife,’ he hiked a thumb at the bag.

‘Seriously?’ Danny raised an eyebrow, ‘You could help me out here, right now, by shutting up.’ He threw the socks into the bag and disappeared into where Steve guessed must be the kitchen (undoubtedly to get some of that damn Kona coffee he keeps going on and on and on about) as he heard the clinking of glass on the counter and the rattle of something in a bag.

Instead, Steve chose to help Danny by reaching over to the small table where the framed picture of Grace sat, and wrapped it in some newspaper before walking over to Danny’s sofa bed thing and laying it gently on top of the bag as the smug grin turned into a full blown smile, and he followed Danny into the kitchen.

***  
It was 5 seconds before 9am and the printers and faxes were going at full speed as Danny, Steve and Chin were sitting in the makeshift war room of Danny’s office, the debris from yesterday cleared into a couple of cardboard boxes stowed under their feet as they listened to the tape found in the recorded in John McGarrett’s Mercury. They each had a copy of the entire contents of the folder under the floor mat, thumbed open at various places, but the writing on them was still the same slanted, messy scrawl.

When the tape was done, Chin reached over to the recorder which sat at the centre of the table and turned it off, his expression unreadable. There was a tentative silence in the room, the same sort that lingered where everyone had so much to say, but no idea how to articulate it into words. Danny’s gaze kept flickering over to Steve, and was deeply concerned when his face pinched into that very withdrawn look that Danny hated so much, a very careful mask of blankness.

‘Danny,’ Chin said out loud, after a few beats of silence, ‘you have the governor’s personal assurance that we have full immunity and means, right?’

They’d managed to stumble into something larger than anything Danny had possibly contemplated, because he was armed with immunity and means to ‘get the job done’ (Jameson’s words exactly) and he was sure that this meant that he could do anything required to get the job done, which here meant to catch the serial killer. If she had wanted a probe into the operations of the HPD, she could have called a mass public inquiry, not this.

Danny seriously considered this for a few moments, before speaking very slowly. He looked at to Steve, his jaw squarely set, before flicking his gaze to Chin, ‘we have whatever it takes’ he waved his hand in the air, ‘to get the job done.’

‘We are going to need it,’ Chin said, a slow smile seeping into his features, and Danny wholeheartedly agreed. The fax machine beeped and Danny ran over to it, ripping the pages clean out before settling back down on the sofa and beginning to read the profile.

Hiro Noshiyuri was a very powerful business who had apparently initially cut his teeth in the sugar cane importation business but then bought his very own technological component production company which produced bits of technology required for circuit breakers and motherboards, various things like that. Once Danny was done reading, he gave the files to Steve, who took them without issue and Danny noted that his expression was set to contemplating, his brow furrowed and he was staring at the pages as if they personally offended them. He was also a very public figure, with an endless list of donations and credits after his name, and also was the chairman of the Chamber of Commerce, and one of Jameson’s friends. Undoubtedly, the string tethered to such a public persona meant that Hiro must have a lot of friends in high places and that meant that the hill they had to climb just got a whole lot steeper.

But Hiro was one of those people who liked to hedge their bets on both sides of the fence, whilst he had this public persona of being a charitable person, John’s files also suggested that he had underground ties to the Triads, rather than the Yakuza, which was odd, Danny thought, considering that the man was Japanese, so, what did all this mean?

John had painstakingly cobbled up evidence from overheard conversations and various other informal things (which would be completely inadmissible in court for it was hearsay evidence, and it didn’t need a smart lawyer to know that it would be dismissed as evidence) to suggest that Hiro used the power and protection of the Triads to carry out his underground operations, to completely pummel the shit out of his competitors to remain number one head honcho on the Islands in anything club related.

‘Interesting,’ Danny mused out loud as he turned the pages of the complete dossier on Hiro faxed over from HPD, ‘Hiro is a silent partner to nearly ten night clubs on Oahu alone.’

‘Of course,’ Steve replied, ‘that way, he can still maintain the façade of respectability while carrying out all of this, undisturbed, and lest anything happen to the club, should there be a scandal, he could just quietly withdraw his funding and go somewhere else.’

‘Keeping his nose clean all the time,’ Chin added thoughtfully.

‘Shit, our job just got a whole lot harder,’ Danny threw the papers down on the table and reached out for the still steaming coffee, taking a sip and revelling in how it burned its way down his throat, hoping that it would kick start the mental faculties and then he could have one of those amazing realisations that characters tend to experience in fiction, where everything is clear as day and the perfect solution just drops into their laps.

Unfortunately, this was real life, not fiction, and his mind supplied an unhelpful blank.

‘Chin, run the names of all of the clubs where Hiro is a silent partner or has a majority stake hold through the computer, and see if anything comes up.’

‘Right Danny,’ after a few moments of rapid fire clicking and typing, Chin’s brow furrowed and his lips thinned to a barely visible line as his eyes scanned the information in front of him, ‘nothing’s coming up so far, the most serious things are fines for a club named Club Envy for supplying alcohol to a minor. He’s already paid the fine, so there isn’t much more we can do with this,’ Chin gestured to the computer, levelling his gaze intently on Danny.

He considered the options. Even if they could prove that Hiro was a silent partner to all these clubs, they were still respectable (as much as possible, anyway) which followed the law, nary a hair out of place. There was no way that the HPD would consider reopening an accidental case after what, 30 years (maths had never been his strong point) just because they found circumstantial evidence to suggest that Hiro may have been involved in the planning of the murder, which would make him an accessory if anything, and the cops down at HPD were busy enough as it is with their arms full with maintaining law and order, and Danny didn’t want to disturb them. Not to mention that John’s talk on the tape and that heightened sense of paranoia was slowly leeching into him.

Sure, Hiro’s company specialised in circuitry and wiring and from the company profiles stacked in front of Danny he was sure that Hiro’s company had dabbled in motor vehicle wiring and circuitry and had the required knowledge to rewire the circuitry, but there was one massive glaring problem.

It was Hiro’s company, not Hiro himself, and you couldn’t charge a company with murder, that idea sounded stupid even in Danny’s own head. And even if the blame could be imputed onto Hiro, most of the evidence was circumstantial in nature and inadmissible in court, meaning that they had no case against Hiro, ergo, they were back to square one.

What they needed was solid, primary evidence that Hiro had intention to kill (they hadn’t even proven that one, really) and that there was a connection between the act and this intention. The phrase ‘meeting of the minds’ popped into his head.

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to stave off the migraine blooming behind his eyes, but he knew that it was foregone as pain radiated duly along his nerves. Damn that circular train of thought, it was a fucking perfect loop, no holes, nothing.

‘Danny,’ Steve said aloud as if sensing what Danny was thinking, and so close to it that Danny could only stare, Steve’s voice was rather quiet though, and he and Chin turned to look at Steve, ‘We’re not getting anywhere. It’s mostly circumstantial evidence. I don’t know about you, but if we’re going to go after this guy, it better be for murder one.’

Danny stared, and then sighed, ‘I know, that’s why I said it just got fucking harder’ but then a grin broke out over his face, ‘but not impossible.’

‘We need to be absolutely sure that he’s our man,’ Chin spoke quietly, turning his eyes away from the laptop in front of him, ‘if this blows up in our faces, we could very well lose everything.’

‘He is,’ Steve said quietly, his voice imbibed with steely conviction, as if what he was saying was the absolute truth, no questions asked.

In that moment, Danny actually believed him. Believed that this was the truth and there was nothing else.

‘But we need a solid link between Hiro and the Triads, not this’ Chin waved photocopies of John’s notes in the air for emphasis, ‘it needs to be water tight.’

‘We’ll get it,’ Danny stated finally as he crossed his arms, ‘we will.’

Just then, the telephone rang, and Danny answered it after two rings and came ear-to-ear with Kono’s rash and heavy breathing, and Danny started to worry when she spoke through the phone, her voice was tired and hoarse and panicked and she was speaking very quickly.

‘Danny,’ she cleared her throat, the next bit coming out as a bit of a hard to understand rush, ‘I’m down here at Nine Dragons, get your ass down here right now,’ and before Danny could say anything she hung up.

‘Guys,’ Danny announced to the room after he put the phone back on the cradle, ‘Kono may have something for us, lets go.’

They made their way down the stairs and out into the full-on rain, cursing that they didn’t have the foresight to bring a fucking umbrella, or hell, a piece of newspaper to shield themselves with, for it really was piss pouring, and Danny’s heart raced a thousand miles an hour as Steve pulled the Camaro out of its spot just in front of the Iolani Palace (Danny had to fight long and hard with Jenkins for that spot) and the tyres squelched under all of the rain, and they sped off towards Chinatown.

‘You want to tell us why we’re going to this club now?’ Chin murmured, taking the back seat and swerving to the side as Steve took a right hook, revving the engine as he rounded the corner. The rain was so heavy outside that the field of vision was reduced to the distance from the car to the sidewalk, the shops and displays and greenery of the parks passed by is a blurred, hazy blur as the rain continued to beat down on all of them

‘Kono’s there at the moment,’ Danny replied, ‘she sounded like she either needed some help or found something out. Whoa, man, slow down’ Danny rushed in an exhale of breath as Steve took another corner so tightly that Danny’s shoulder bumped really hard into the passenger side window, and he grimaced, ‘slow down, right now! It’s raining, the road’s wet, I think my life just flashed before my eyes, and I’m too young to die, for fuck’s sake slow down!’

Chin snorted, as Steve merely flicked the police sirens on, and continued apace.

***

Nine Dragons was a fancier sort of club, resembling something one wouldn’t bat an eyelash outside of Macau, or wherever the Asian gambling Mecca was nowadays. It was kind of like an Asian version of a gentleman’s country club, completely with the lions at the front in place of gargoyles flanking the entrance gates, and the whole vibe of the place made Danny feel like he was plunged into some sort of periodic Asian drama, what with the terracotta red roofing which flicked upwards, and the whole serene garden thing happening, complete with a huge artificial lake and bridge above it, where the fish swam peacefully below. He was sure that on a nice and sunny day all of this would look lovely and pleasant with the willow drooping the tips of its branches to caress the surface of the water, but in the given circumstances it looked like a drowned world, all gray and wet.

Steve drove them up the length of the driveway before parking in an undercover spot, and they made their way past the marble stone lanterns at the front inside, where it was quite dark, everything was painted in sensual red hues and a young Asian girl sat behind a desk in a traditional red silk _cheong sam_ , her false eyelashes fluttering as her cherry red lips pursed at whatever she was working on. She looked up when their footsteps were loud enough to catch on the marble floor, and her face transformed into one of a hostess.

‘ _Ni men hao_!’ she greeted automatically, ‘welcome to Nine Dragons, how can I help you today?’

‘We received a message from a Miss Kono Kalakaua to meet us here, can you please show us where she is?’

‘Sure’ she spoke out slowly, ‘please follow me.’

She was attractive, sure enough and Danny was sure that she was hired based on her looks rather than any actual skill, if you like the long river of jet black shiny hair (long enough to get tangled in), the ample bust and tiny hour glass waste line which flared into curved hips and elongated into long, long legs, which were fully showcased by the _cheong sam_ where the split was basically on her hip (it was that high) and the back swayed with each step she took.

Sure enough, he was right, for she led them up a flight of stairs, where Danny observed some older Chinese men playing _mah-jong_ and what looked like checkers, pipes clutched loosely in their hands, then some men an women sitting at a bar, where a young Asian man poured drinks and _gua zhang_ music played, before coming to the last door at the end of a richly carpeted hallway, where a large jade carving of a dragon sat on the door. She knocked on the door once and pushed in.

‘ _Xian sheng,_ ’ she spoke aloud, ‘the young lady has visitors.’

The office was extravagantly decorated with many undoubtedly very expensive artefacts sitting behind glass cases. One entire wall of the office space was a fish tank where pink and gold fish weaved in and out of the coral. There wasn’t a window here, and the desk sat in front of the door, with a heavily scowling Kono seated right in front of it, he long legs stretched out in front of her, her head resting on a arm propped on the arm of the chair.

Behind the desk sat a man who looked to be about as old as John McGarrett. His black lair had streaks of white in it, and he was classically good looking, with a strong jaw structure, high cheekbones and his eyes crinkled in amusement and locked onto them, a smile creeping into his features. He stood up, and Danny noted that he was wearing a very expensive suit which cost more than what he earned in a month, probably. He also noted the way the office was decorated, to make it seem as if the man was the centre of the universe, what with the dark wood shelves full of thick leather bound books that Danny guessed were there more for decorative purposes and the overload of expensive artefacts would surely be intimidating for any normal person, right?

It was a display of raw power, if anything.

As was this, ‘Irene, as I have told you, you cannot just barge into my office like this!’ he roared.

‘Sorry, boss,’ she replied, completely unrepentant as she closed the door with a soft snap.

Chin approached Kono, who looked relatively unharmed. Pissed off, if anything. Dropped down onto the seat next to her.

‘Cuz, are you alright?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine. This guy,’ she hitched her thumb to the man sitting behind the desk, ‘refused to believe that I was a cop, and wouldn’t tell me anything. So what better way than a display of power.’

‘Cuz…’ Chin began, his eyes locked on Kono’s unwaveringly, but-

‘I’m sorry’ the man interrupted, and Danny observed that he still had a Chinese accent, with about 30 years of American on top of it, ‘we got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry young lady, for not believing that you are a cop. You’re too young and beautiful, a pretty face like you shouldn’t be on the force.’

Danny (and he was pretty sure Steve and Chin too) thought the murderous expression was hilarious, she was fairly radiating _I will kill you_ vibes right now, if the square set of her jaw and the way she stiffened in the chair, her hands clenching into tight fists were anything to go by.

‘Chin, get Kono out of here, go wait for us in the car,’ Danny ordered.

‘Right,’ with no peep of argument, though Kono was still glaring daggers at the man, they left the office, with Chin’s arm draped loosely across Kono’s shoulders and he was murmuring something into her ear, hard and fast in Pidgin.

‘I’m Detective Danny Williams’ Danny began, ‘and this is Dr Steve McGarrett, we were wondering if you could share with us the information that you refused to impart with Kono Kalakaua,’ for emphasis (no he was resolutely not overwhelmed by the opulence) he flashed his badge, which glinted duly in the light from the fish tank.

‘Sure gentlemen,’ he stated, and stood up from his chair, making a sit down gesture at Danny and Steve, ‘please sit down, would you like something to drink?’

Danny and Steve sat down, ‘no thank you.’

‘Hmm, Miss Kono was asking me about Kam Ho,’ he picked up the phone and ordering a glass of oolong tea, before grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the drawer and lighting up, taking a very deep drag on it before continuing, ‘I always like to settle down for the long haul, as I can see both of you have so many questions you’d like to ask me-’

‘Please continue,’ Steve prompted.

‘Kam Ho was employed by this club on a cash in hand basis, all very seasonal stuff I assure you,’ he took another drag of the cigarette, ‘he was our very occasional courier.’

‘I see,’ Danny replied, and Irene bustled back into the room carrying a tray with a teapot and three glasses, before she stopped next to the man and poured three cups and handed them all one, before putting the tea pot to the side and backing out again.

‘This is terrible, I specifically ask for tea in a glass, and she gives me a cup. Sometimes I wonder why I even keep her here,’ he sighed, and then took a sip and another drag of his cigarette as he lapsed into silence.

Danny had had plenty of experience dealing with jackasses who thought they could outwait you and outplay you (Wai Leung Ho being the most recent one) and pretty well mind-fuck you, but Danny had been down that road too many times, and he spotted a diversionary tactic when it presented itself.

He settled back more comfortably into the chair, and spoke in a voice one might use on an old friend they hadn’t seen in a long time, ‘perhaps you’re right,’ he reached out to take the glass of hot tea on the table, grasping it between his hands and taking a sip and, oh wow, that was hot, he may have just burnt the roof of his mouth (stupid thing to do) and the tea was nothing special, if a bit on the bitter side and he stretched his other arm out on the armrest.

‘Please tell us what sort of things Kam Ho did for you, what sort of goods he couriered?’

‘We are a club, Mr Williams,’ the man replied carefully, ‘sometimes out patrons leave things behind at the end of the night, high priced, valuable things and we sometimes require the services of someone to take these things back to them. It’s all part of our service.’

‘So he basically brought goods back to people if they left them behind on these premises,’ Steve clarified.

‘Yes, that is correct,’ the man replied, ‘and unless that is a crime, I really don’t understand why Five O would be here to see me. I have nothing to do with those heinous serial killings at all.’

‘We are not saying you have committed a crime,’ Danny spoke carefully, ‘your name happened to come up during the course of our investigation, and we’d like to find some answers to our questions, with your full help of course.’ He flashed the man what he considered his charming smile.

The man exhaled his cigarette slowly, the exhale of breath coming out in a white rush before dissipating, ‘of course, I have nothing to hide. What would you like to know?’

‘Anything that you know about Kam Ho,’ Danny replied, ‘and whether or not you know a Mr Hiro Noshimuri.’ His detective instincts were telling him that if he played his cards right here, the payoff would be worth it.

‘I don’t know much about Kam Ho,’ the man said after a few more drags of his cigarette as he stubbed it out in the ashtray and lit a fresh one, and Danny watched the tip glow amber for a few moments, ‘we employed him because he was cheap, the man worked for a song. He kept pretty much to himself here, he made no real attempts at getting to know people. And as to Hiro, who doesn’t know him?’ He waved the hand holding the cigarette in an arc created a smoke trail.   

‘Excuse me, what I meant was, did you know Hiro personally?’ Danny’s eyes focused on the way the muscles under the man’s left eye jumped slightly, the set of his jaw, the way his fingers were almost white as they lifted the cigarette to his lips and the most pathetic bid for time that was the slow exhale of cigarette smoke. Danny stared.

‘I might have,’ the man replied carefully after a few moments’ pause, ‘we may have bumped into each other at the odd gala dinner or fundraising event. Its hard not to, considering the way that he has been gunning for pre-selection, he’s everywhere, at any-’

‘What?’ Steve asked, the first sound he’s made for the past half an hour or so.

‘Hiro wants to contest the Governor position at the next election,’ the man stated flatly, taking a sip of his tea and clearing his throat before continuing, ‘he believes that he can do a better job as Governor than Pat can. I’m surprised that you’re only hearing of this now, because its been all over the news this morning,’ he reached under his desk and pulled out a copy of today’s _Honolulu Advertiser,_ where sure enough, there was a doctored photograph of Hiro (which made him look handsome, well, as much as possible anyway) and the headline screamed ‘new contender enters the race’ in large black, bold letters, ‘it really does worry me, if you’re the head of the taskforce that’s supposed to be helping small business.’

Danny knew that the twist of the knife should have hurt like hell but it didn’t, because he was scanning the paper and snippets jumped out at him. Hiro was entering into the race to become governor, which meant that right now, if they were to look into his past and his history, they would be working with the spin-doctor’s version, not the truth. Everything would have been painted and glossed over, all creases smoothed over by schmooze and lies.

Holy fuck.  

‘Please keep that, if you’d like,’ he offered generously, ‘I only hope you have more luck with the crossword than I do, and I should tell you now, that everyone would like you to catch the serial killer as soon as possible, it’s killing small business.’

Danny stonily replied, ‘we’re doing the best we can.’

‘A couple of amateur sleuths in the Oahu small business association have quite a few interesting theories, some of which are quite good,’ he took a drag of his cigarette before continuing, ‘would you care to hear some?’ Danny didn’t need to look up from his cup of tea, he could hear the grin and amusement in the man’s voice, and irritation bristled in him. He shifted his sight to Steve who looked like a stone statue at the moment, no movement or any indicator of activity there.

He may have lapsed into a coma for all Danny knew.

‘Sure’ Danny said sweetly, ‘we’d love to hear some.’ He took another sip of his tea which tasted alright now that it didn’t burn anymore, and waited patiently, as if he had all the time in the world.

‘We’re thinking that the serial killer is very smart,’ the man enunciated very clearly, ‘we also think he is someone who is very close to the investigation, perhaps even a police officer, or even a doctor’ his gaze flitted over to Steve, who still sat there like a stone, ‘judging by the way all the bullets were aimed at strategic points which would have resulted in instant death. He certainly knew a lot about recent cases and must have access to all the records of the crimes and addresses and anything relevant, so he must have access to the HPD databases.’

Danny could only stare back, because what the man said actually made sense, and he was turning the possibilities over in his head, ‘wow, it seems like you have thought long and hard about this, and are very familiar with it.’

The man held up his hands in mock surrender a guileless smile on his face, ‘please, don’t shoot the messenger, I didn’t say that these were my ideas, but they are ideas from people who frequent Nine Dragons, people you’re more than welcome to talk to, as you’re always welcome at this club. But now, if you could please excuse me, I have a meeting to attend. Please excuse yourselves when you’re done,’ he stood up, and took the coat and hat that hung on the coat stand, bowed his head in farewell, and was almost out the door when Danny spoke up.

‘Thank you for you help today,’ he said, ‘can you please tell us your name?’

He looked at them over his shoulder, ‘my name is Wo Fat. Nice to meet you gentlemen,’ and he was gone.

Danny turned to face Steve, who was looking at him calculatedly, his hazel eyes intense.

‘He certainly knew what he was talking about,’ Danny murmured after a few beats of silence as he put the half-empty cup back on the table and stood up to stretching, wincing as his should popped.

‘I think he knows more than he lets on,’ Steve said seriously.

‘I completely agree, come on, let’s get out of here,’ Danny waited for Steve to get up and walk ahead of him, before closing the door with a snap.

They walked down the stairs and back out past the front, where Irene was no where to be found, and some of the couples had started dancing (which frankly was weird considering that it was only 11 in the morning at most) and it was only then that Danny realised that he hadn’t even bothered to take the keys to the Camaro back from Steve, who simply whipped them out of his cargo pant pocket and hopped in.

‘Steven,’ Danny admonished.

‘Yes dear?’ Steve replied, clearly amused.

‘Those are my keys. Gimme,’ he made a give me motion with his hand, but Steve merely shook his head and that damn soft smile appeared on his face.

‘I drive faster than you,’ Steve answered, as if that actually answered everything.

Danny raised an eyebrow, ‘right, everything has to be a competition.’

‘Driving usually is, unless I’m mistaken,’ Steve deadpanned.  

‘And we’re off, but still, I have shot-gunned my car, remember?’

Steve scoffed, ‘sure I do, well then,’ he dropped the keys into Danny’s outstretched hand.

‘See, that wasn’t so hard,’ Danny said as he got into the car in the driver’s seat, ‘must you make everything so much harder than it has to be?’ He looked over to Steve’s rain soaked form, the t-shirt clinging tightly to his muscular form and his hair curling at the nape of his neck and er, wow, Danny’s mind jumped back to their very first meeting in that dingy alleyway between Pulse and Club Envy-

Wait.

Club _Envy_?

‘Hey, you guys took long enough,’ Kono said, her voice relaxed and calm, ‘we were getting ready to send a search-’

‘Hey Chin,’ Danny cut across, ‘didn’t Hiro have a stake in Club Envy?’

Chin whipped out his phone and five minutes later he was accessing the HPD computer frame, ‘yes, he owns that club with Dennis Fan as silent financial partner.’

‘That was the club that was next to the place where Boateng was killed,’ Steve stated simply. He barely had time to fasten his seatbelt before Danny raced out past the gates, spraying water on the footpaths as he zoomed along the street.

‘Okay,’ the Camaro swerved to the right as Danny took the corner (resolutely ignoring Steve’s pot and kettle jibes), ‘Kono, talk to the DA about some bugs and taps. What’s his name again?’

‘Manicote,’ Steve answered.

‘Anyway,’ Danny continued, ‘before you do that, can you tell us how you got the connection to Wo Fat, Kono?’

She sighed, and ran her hand through her hair, ‘this is going to sound really stupid…’

‘There’s no right or wrong answer,’ Chin prompted gently, ‘if it made sense to you, then it will most probably make sense to all of us, right guys?’

‘Right,’ Steve and Danny chimed in from the front.

Danny looked into the rear view mirror to see Kono beaming tremulously, ‘um, so I went back to talk to Wai Leung yesterday down at the holding prison, and I got into a chat with him. I may or may not have promised him that if he cooperated with us I may be able to get him out of jail sooner.’

Danny almost missed the turn off because he was so shocked that Kono could have done something so stupid like that, as any ideas of pleas bargains and reduction in sentences only came about once the fucking perp had spilled their guts out to you, not before hand because that was analogous to giving them carte blanche and opening up the whole fairness and procedural can of worms, which was never fun. He exhaled a breath.

‘So he told me that his brother had been employed by Wo Fat at Nine Dragons as some sort of courier of sorts.’

‘Courier?’ Danny forced out, biting down on the urge to chastise her.

‘Yes, Wai Leung told me that most of the people there are repeat customers, and that he worked there often, because people quite frequently forgot their things, left them behind, and then Kam would have to return their things to them. Pretty good service to be honest.’

The picture was starting to clear up for Danny right now, as the pieces began to slide together in this jigsaw puzzle, ‘did he say what types of things were left behind?’

‘Handbags and attaché cases mostly,’ Kono replied.

‘Did he comment on anything else about any of this?’ Danny asked.

Kono was silent for a few moments, ‘no, that was pretty much it, Danny, although…’

‘Although what?’ prompted Danny, taking his eyes away from the road fleetingly before rounding the bend and going past the front gates of the Iolani palace.

‘His whole fucking demeanour changed, like, when you were questioning him, he was all really uncooperative and fucking rude, but now he’s pretty much giving us what we want. What gives? It’s just weird after all.’

‘Yeah,’ Danny nodded as he pulled the handbrake up, ‘it is weird. Anyway, Chin, Kono, go do whatever you want for the next two hours, Meet me in my office at’ he glanced at the clock on the dashboard, ‘2pm.’

‘Finally, a break,’ Kono exclaimed, before turning to Chin ‘cuz, want to join me for lunch and get some _lomi-lomi_?’

‘Yeah sure,’ he replied, and beamed, almost fucking incandescently, ‘see you in a few boss.’ With that they head out of the car together in the same direction, which happened to be running up the palace steps, undoubtedly to get an umbrella to stay dry in this torrential downpour, Danny was sure of it.

He turned to look at Steve, ‘hey’ he said softly, why don’t we go and get something to eat, what do you feel like?’ he stretched his hand out and laid it gently on top of Steve’s, rubbing gentle circles onto Steve’s skin.

‘I feel like something home-made,’ Steve said, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, biting that bottom lips of his, and how could Danny say no to that? ‘You’ve done enough for me as it is-‘ he never got to finish that thought, as Danny was leaning over and kissing him, soft and sweet, it was more like a caring caress of lips, there was no real heat behind it and when they broke apart, Steve realised that he had instinctively moved into the kiss, sliding along his seat so that he could get as close as possible to Danny, without being acutely aware of doing it.

Oh fuck. Everything had gotten a whole lot harder.

‘I can see that this is going to work both ways,’ Danny murmured, each word ghosting warmth over Steve’s mouth, ‘from now on, every time I want you to shut up, I’m going to kiss you. I don’t want to hear things like that again, okay? Whatever you want, just ask.’

 _Whatever you want, just ask._

Danny’s words echoed in Steve’s mind, and he felt a strong rush of warmth and lightness overwhelm him, emotion pouring out and before he could stop it, before he could sandbag the levies appropriately, before he could turn away and feign something had gotten into his eyes (like that excuse had ever worked, seriously), they felt suspiciously wet, before he could do anything about it, hot, fat tears were rolling down his cheeks and he made no effort to stop them, because he was so happy, so full of it that he felt like he could come apart at the seams and it’d be all rainbows and sunshine and whatever, and everything would be okay because Danny was here and Danny was going to make everything okay.

Then it hit him and he felt winded, all the air knocked out of his lungs; the very real possibility that this thing, fuck, was it a relationship, he had going with Danny, _was it going to survive when Danny found out that he was the serial killer?_

The tears kept flowing, as more emotion and feelings surged through him, the happiness turning to grief at the very real chance that he was going to lose Danny, at both his parents’ murders, despair over everything that he had worked so hard over the years to compartmentalise and rationalise came up to the fore, bubbling up, and soon he found himself sobbing for everything that was wrong and horrible and cruel and unfair that was his life, that would continue to constitute his life.  Images flashed through his mind, of a little boy standing next to a pile of charred smouldering remains where a badly burnt human arm poked out, the glimmer of gold bright in the morning sunlight as the fire fighters rush around to put out the fire, of a young man standing proudly on the podium having graduated Medicine as the valedictorian only to scan the crowd for his family to find no one bothered to turn up, a man surrounded by distorted glass and beakers and things in suspended animation as he worked himself into the ground to stop the gnawing numbness of loneliness…

It was too much, fucking too much and Steve vaguely heard the sound of a seatbelt being taken off and found himself ensconced in the unique scent that was Danny, his arms coming to wrap themselves around Steve and pulling him closer, as Danny merely held him tight like this, and Steve cried brokenly against his shoulder until he was calm enough and the tears had stopped flowing, only then did Danny let go and fished in his pocket for a handkerchief before holding it out for Steve.

‘Don’t worry, I haven’t used it,’ sympathy danced behind those blue eyes as they regarded him. Danny looked away for a few moments as Steve used the handkerchief to wipe at his eyes before stowing it in his pocket.

‘I’ll wash it and return it to you,’ Steve said after a few moments weakly.

‘Keep it,’ Danny said simply, ‘use it whenever you have to,’ Danny was smiling at Steve gently by now, and Steve watched as Danny put his seatbelt on and drove back to Steve’s place.

He couldn’t help the grin that broke out on his face, because for the first time in his life, he was looking forward to going home.

***

Danny was bustling around in the kitchen as Steve leaned back on the counter top watching him. Steve had offered to help with whatever Danny wanted put Danny had merely told him to go watch some television or something pointing a cooking utensil at him (it looked a bit like a spatula, maybe).

So instead he leaned back against the counter top as far out of Danny’s way as possible as he observed the man at work, here clearly in his element as he chopped things and washed things and added them to pots before stirring, and soon enough the kitchen was filled with the homely smell of good food and of the sounds of meat sizzling on a grill and things being pan-fried.

‘Geez, Danno, you’re really in your element there,’ Steve mused out loud.

‘I feel like a housewife,’ Danny muttered as he stirred a mixture of vegetables in a pot and added a knob of butter to it and some thyme and then rosemary, ‘all I need now is a fucking lace apron and my transformation would be complete.’ He turned off the stove and started to pour food on the plates.

‘I’ll be sure to get you one the next time I’m at Walmart,’ Steve grinned some more, clearly pleased with himself.

Danny looked up from where he was and gave Steve a dirty look, ‘what the fuck, we just implied that we’re married. And why the hell am I the housewife?’

‘You cook,’ Steve replied in that offhand way of his, the one where whatever he says is the answer. Full stop, ‘you nag-’

‘I nag because I _care_. And besides, nothing gets through that thick skull of yours via conventional methods, like how many times have I told you to slow down? Told you to give me back my keys? And still, you won’t listen to me. Besides, you should be the housewife.’

‘Somehow, I don’t think the lace would look as good as it does for you, on me,’ Steve replied breezily, ‘and I gave the keys back to you, they’re in your trouser pocket. See?’ he indicated to the bulge in the pocket where Danny’s keys were 

‘You clean like a freak, don’t think I haven’t noticed the obsessive way you clean everything I haven’t even found or seen anything astray ever since I’ve been here. I bet if I were to check the glass on the windows there’s be no streak marks and fingerprints. Fucking hell,’ he put the pot down and used a pair of tongs to grasp cuts of meat and place them on plates, before opening the cutlery drawer and pulling out a knife and fork for each of them, ‘come on, your food’s ready, let’s eat.’

They sat next to each other on the couch with glasses of cold water in front of them (no, its too early for beer Danny had said) as the TV buzzed softly in the background, a quiet lull of noise. It turned out Danny had grilled dome steaks and done some risotto like rice thing and pan-roasted vegetables.

‘This is very nice,’ Steve said around a mouthful of broccoli, ‘very fresh.’

‘Are you trying to become a food critic? So far not wowing me,’ Danny balanced the plate on his good knee and cut into the steak, spearing a piece and lifting it to his mouth, chewing slowly.

‘I never said I was one, I just think that praise should be given when it is due,’ Steve said softly.

‘True,’ Danny mumbled, ‘if you do something good, you should be rewarded for it, some parents actually believe that withholding praise will push your kid to work harder, be better, but I say that is wrong, because everyone needs praise.’

‘Definitely,’ Steve said, looking at Danny with something bordering on fondness, ‘okay, you are definitely the wife here, right now.’

Danny laughed, ‘I am no wife, McGarrett, do I look like one?’

‘Definitely _not._ ’  

‘You don’t look like one either, so there you go.’

‘So what’s on the agenda for this afternoon?’ Steve raised his glass of water to his lips and took a swig before setting the glass down and eating the rest of the carrot and cauliflower.

‘I’m going to pull all the access files on the serial killers victims, find out who was looking at the files before us, that Wo Fat guy made a valid point, we may be dealing with someone inside the HPD.’

‘That won’t take all of the afternoon I’m sure, so then what comes after?’ It took everything Steve had not to panic, because if Danny were to pull all of the access lists to those files, he would see that Steve was a person who had accessed these files roughly around the time of the murders. Fuck. If only he could break away from Danny for a few moments to remove his access history…

Danny raised an eyebrow ‘why Mr Ten questions all of a sudden? Afraid I might find something out? Something embarrassing?’

‘Just curious, because we may end up with a free afternoon, isn’t that shocking?’ Steve put his hand up to his mouth in mock horror, looking so ridiculous that Danny laughed, ‘well, not really, because it is Saturday, after all.’

‘I know. You should be ecstatic. I’m very happy with you guys, because you’re the only people who I’ve worked with who haven’t bitched at me about working Saturdays.’

‘Welcome to Hawaii,’ Steve said, ‘where everyday is basically Saturday. I hope you enjoy your stay here on the islands.’ Danny laughed some more, and Steve joined in, it felt really, really good.

‘Oh don’t worry, I’ll be hanging around here, like I said to you, you won’t get rid of me that easily,’ Danny’s voice was laced with good humour, his eyes sparkling with it.

Steve had opened his mouth to say something when Danny’s phone rang.

‘Its Jameson,’ Danny said, ‘one moment. Hello Governor, what can I do for you? Oh, I’m eating lunch and reading up on the McGarrett file. What, right now? Okay, I’ll be in your office in twenty minutes, sure thing, thank you, see you then.’

‘What did she want?’ Steve queried.

Danny shrugged his shoulders as he levelled his gaze on Steve, ‘I have no idea.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to tell me what you think! All feedback is appreciated :)


	20. As the Stars Align in the Midnight Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly had no idea what to call this chapter, and then I caught news of the Friday the 13th planetary alignment and decided to name this chapter in honour of that seeing as this only happens once every 50 years or so, and then, hey, this is actually a pretty fitting title for this.
> 
> I apologise for the delay, because real life refuses to back down, and these chapters are getting lengthier and lengthier, and I won't be surprised if this fic reached more that 100,000 words.

It had been 25 minutes since the time the receptionist, a pretty young Hawaiian girl with long black hair and the stereotypical flower tucked behind her ear and clothes so bright he wouldn’t have blinked twice if she glowed in the dark as a result, had let Danny inside the Governor’s office and told him in a stern voice to not touch anything and wait.

With each passing second Danny’s fidgeting (hell, he was freaking nervous) got a little more pronounced, the mechanical ticking of the seconds ominously loud in the Governor’s currently empty office. He tried to quash the note of annoyance at having to wait, despite being told (ordered, more like) to get here as soon as possible, irritation blooming heavy and solid. He took a few moments to survey the office, and it was only then that he did notice that everything was arranged perfectly, the spines of the leather books polished and the gold lettering on them gleaming dully in the artificial light, there was nary a paper out of place and everything looked brand new.

He was just about to stand up and start pacing a bit when she came in through the door, slightly out of breath with enough makeup on to service a small flotilla of women makeup artists, wearing a suit that looked Italian and probably cost more than Danny would imagine constituted a reasonable amount to spend on cloth and thread, and the familiar clomping of the fuck-me-dead heels were there, as per the usual.

He made a mental note to tell Steve later that not everyone wore clothes as if they were just stepping out for a day at the beach, complete with sand and peeling skin. Anyone who was anyone roamed the islands in suits, and shirts and ties. An amused smirk crept onto Danny’s face.

Jameson didn’t notice.

She strolled past Danny and another young guy who Danny guessed was her executive assistant (a very good looking Hawaiian guy in clothes which were borderline illegal in the way they clung to him, leaving nothing to the imagination, such that Danny stared) came through behind her and put a stack of files, newspapers, a laptop and what looked like the Governor’s Hermes Birkin bag on the table for her, before leaning down and murmuring something in her ear, such that a small smile lit up her face, before he took a look at Danny and headed out of the office, closing the door with a snap.

‘Governor,’ Danny greeted, fixing his face with a gently confused expression, ‘what can I do for you now.’

She took a few moments to rearranged her clothes (so they wouldn’t crease, Danny assumed) before fixing him with her brown stare.

Today he didn’t have his hand stuck down the proverbial cookie jar, so he merely shrugged it off and met her gaze evenly.

A few beats of silence passed by before she sighed and brought her hands up to rest in front of her, clutched loosely in each other. Danny noticed that they were a nude beige sort of colour today.

‘I have received information that Miss Kono Kalakaua has requested around the clock surveillance on a Mr Hiro Noshiyuri,’ she stated simply, ‘can you please justify why?’

Danny raised his eyebrows. What reason was there that the Governor felt that she had to personally question his decision, it was right, he had a case against Hiro and he was going to go after it. He leaned in a little closer and cleared his throat before beginning, ‘Mr Noshiyuri is a person of interest connected to the serial killings,’ he stated simply, as if that was the be all and end all.

Unfortunately, she didn’t buy any of it. Not one bit. She leaned back on her leather chair and surveyed Danny for a few moments, clearly thinking that he was going to crack under the pressure or something and what, Danny didn’t know.

He still clearly had no idea what this was all about, and made a note to talk to the DA (Manicote, Steve’s voice prompted him) after all of this and ask why the fuck he had gone straight to the Governor herself rather than him if there were any issues with the court order for the surveillance.

She continued ‘do you have any solid admissible evidence that ties Mr Noshiyuri to the serial killings?’ She was regarding him carefully, and he sensed that she was being very deliberate with her questions here, as if she was trying to sense something from him.

He still had no idea what this was about, and it was on the tip of his tongue to ask her why the fuck she would be interested in anything to do with the investigation as she had shown no inkling of being remotely interested in anything to do with the progress of the case unless it was good news, anything that involved the nitty gritty of police procedural work, but she was still his boss, damn it, and she sure would not appreciate that, so he reigned it in.

‘Like I said governor,’ he stated flatly, he could still keep the note of irritation out of his voice by this stage, ‘we have reason to believe that he is involved in the serial killings.’

‘Please explain to me,’ her tone curt, and slightly cold.

He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled a breath, ‘there is evidence to suggest that he was involved in the death of Diane McGarrett-’

‘She was Steve’s mother,’ Jameson interrupted, a tinge of resentment crept into her voice at the mention of Steve’s name, ‘and unless I’m mistaken, she was not killed by the serial killer.’

‘Yes, she was killed in what we now suspect to be a car bombing,’ Danny confirmed ‘John McGarrett, the last serial killer victim, had reopened the case into her murder two weeks before he was killed. We have his files and tapes which would constitute evidence that Hiro was involved in the planting of the car bomb because he was the one who ordered it.’

He was expecting, gosh he didn’t know what to expect , or how she would react, but he was very surprised when she merely stared back at him in a calculating and shrewd way, how one might if they were processing some very complex information and was trying to work around it. She rested her elbows on the table and brought them under her chin, he had a feeling that if she could, she would want to x-ray his brain right now, or maybe admit truth serum.

A few moments passed, before she said softly said, barely audible above the incessant _pitter patter_ of the rain against the roof of the Palace.

‘I want you to drop the request for surveillance on Mr Noshiyuri, Danny. Right now, call Manicote and tell him to cancel the court appointment he has scheduled this afternoon with Judge Robertson,’ she reached over and pulled the phone (which was hidden by the large vase full of oriental lilies)

‘Excuse me, what?’ he sounded incredulous, and he knew it.

It had taken most of the duration of the pin to drop but when it did, oh boy, Danny could feel shock and horror at everything that this meant, at everything that was too big, too awful, too bloody fucking political to understand. When the cold hard realisation did actually settle down, he could only look at her with what was described as a wan expression.

He had been in the Force long enough to be able to recognise one should it ever occur, and this had the rotten stench of cover-up all over it, and Danny was sure there was something larger at work here, something very tawdry which would never make it to the light of day, not with Jameson’s involvement in it.

But at the same time, his curiosity was piqued because if there truly was nothing to be afraid of, if Hiro actually hadn’t done anything wrong, then what was a bit of digging here and there?

Every natural instinct told him to back off, to go back to the status quo and drop everything to do with the McGarrett investigation to pick up what was left of the serial killer investigation generally, which frankly, was nothing much to be honest (a tie between Kam Ho and Wo Fat but it was all like smoke and mirrors at this stage).

But as long as it seemed like he was trying to do something, something that the Governor could crow all over the six o’clock news and the papers about, then everything was fine and sunny.

His fingers lingered over the phone for just the briefest of seconds, and he remembered Steve’s face on that terrible day, the grief and loss and awful sense of defeat on the set of his shoulders as he sat there on the beach, as far away as possible, as if but putting physical difference between himself and the awful truth would somehow make things alright.

And Danny knew, at that very moment, that he could not do that to Steve. No fucking way. Instead, he owed it to Steve to do everything he could to find this sadistic fucking son of a bitch killer who murdered Steve’s father, make sure he paid for it, and get Hiro for the car bombing of Steve’s mother.

It was also his obligation, if the oath he took at graduation from Police Academy to serve and protect was to mean anything.

He lifted the handset to his ear and pressed the button on the speed dial for Manicote. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Jameson was critically gazing at him, her arms crossed in front of her chest, nervous tension clear as day in the way she held herself, and he wondered why. What was the connection between her and Hiro such that she would order him to drop the McGarrett aspect, the first real lead in anything they’ve done, when the stakes were so high, where this would be a freaking dream for the candidate running against her if this were to make it into the light of day. It was against everything she had asked of him, on that very first day, in this very same office when she had asked him to head the Five O task force.   

The phone was picked up in two rings, and Manicote’s gravelly voice greeted him, ‘Manicote.’ Danny could hear the rapid running of the printer in the background.

‘Danny Williams here,’ he flicked his eyes back to the governor, who was still holding herself tersely, those brown eyes trying pitifully to will him into submission (as if that would ever work), ‘I have something I want to discuss with you, you free now?’

‘Am I ever free?’ Manicote asked rhetorically, dark humour creeping into the edges of his voice, ‘alright, let me finish the paperwork on the Carrera shootings, then meet me in my office.’

‘Sure, in fifteen minutes?’ Danny suggested. He looked up at the clock right now, which read 1.30pm.

‘Sounds good. See you then,’ he hung up. 

Danny put the phone back on the receiver and met with Jameson’s disapproving glare.

‘You didn’t ask him to cancel the appointment with the judge. Like I told you to,’ she said, her voice laced with annoyance, a petty streak running right through it.

Danny replied flippantly, and noted with a small amount of glee how those lips of hers repressed into a thin line, ‘I didn’t think it would be prudent,’ fixing her with a knowing stared, under which she faltered, her eyes diverting to look at the large heads of the oriental lily flowers instead, ‘to discuss this over the phone.’

With a slight sigh, he stood up, wished Jameson a good afternoon, and left the office.

***

Manicote worked in a small office on a lower level of the Iolani Palace, a small dingy room that was about half the size of Danny’s office where he was sure there was a paper jungle complete with post-it coloured flowers growing in there. Manicote’s desk was so fully covered with paperwork and a fat open copy of _Halsbury’s Laws of Australia_ that not an inch of wood could be seen.

Manicote was a middle-aged man with greying hair and a bald patch on top of his head. He had the look of someone who had seen too many goddamn awful things and pulled no enjoyment from it at all, but looked at his job the way Danny did, which was that someone had to do it, and the buck had landed on him. An air of perpetual tiredness and resignation surrounded him.

Danny was waiting for more like 45 minutes on the standard issue straight back chairs in front of the desk and observed Manicote for a few moments and gathered that he was on the phone with someone from Australia to request Carrera’s extradition from Adelaide. The conversation was lengthy and peppered with legalistic jargon that Danny didn’t understand, his gravelly voice not giving an inch, before he hung up the phone and looked at Danny, rubbing a hand through his stubbled jaw.

He peered at Danny assessingly, curiosity bright in those warm brown eyes, ‘I’m sure this is no social visit Danny, what do you want from me?’ He pushed his chair out a bit and leaned back, resting his hands on his knees and he crossed one leg over the other.

Danny took a deep breath and shot back, ‘I have a few of my own as well.’ He crossed his leg and leaned back on his chair as well, mirroring Manicote’s actions.

An amused smile curled on Manicote’s lips, ‘well, I guess we’re at a stalemate. You will answer every question of mine, and in return I will answer yours if I can. That sound good?’

Danny rolled his eyes, ‘fuck it Manicote, must you turn everything into a freaking negotiation? I’m not a convict, here,’ despite himself, he was amused as hell anyway.

‘Language, Williams,’ Manicote chided with no real heat.

‘Old habits die hard.’

‘Anyway, you requested this meeting,’ Manicote prompted, before looking pointedly at the clock ‘you need to get a move on because I need to see Robertson in chambers at 3 to request a court order for surveillance on Noshiyuri. So spill.’

Danny pulled his chair closer to the desk before fixing Manicote with a piercing stare, which had no effect, because it seemed like the man was made of graphite or lead or something, and began, ‘do you know where I was just before now?’

Manicote gave him the stink eye, ‘hey, that’s cheating.’

Danny continued anyway, ‘I was in Jameson’s office, and she personally asked me to drop the surveillance request on Noshiyuri. Now, how the fuck did she know that, given that Kono had merely asked you practically minutes before this?’

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Manicote said, ‘I can read between the lines here, and you’ve got it wrong. I haven’t had a chance to speak to anyone other than the tipstaff working at Robertson’s chambers, and even at that I said I wanted to lodge a petition for a court order authorising surveillance. I didn’t specify who for.’

Danny’s hard gaze softened a little at that, so Manicote pushed on, ‘besides,’ Manicote’s voice became a lot more gentle after that, ‘do I seem like the type to kiss and tell?’

Danny snorted, ‘no, you do not,’ he admitted grudgingly.

‘But that’s interesting,’ Manicote seemed to be pondering something, ‘I wonder why Jameson would tell you to drop this, when its in her best interest she should be digging and clinging to every piece of dirt she can dig on Noshiyuri.’

‘It makes no sense whatsoever,’ Danny agreed.

‘Well, politics is a dirty business’ Manicote concluded, and clapped his hands together, ‘so what do you want me to do with the court order? Want me to push it?’

Danny considered this for a few moments, ‘no, cancel it. Who am I to refuse an order?’

Manicote recognised the obstinate glint in Danny’s eyes, and snorted, ‘if it helps, you don’t need a court order to conduct a private investigation.’

‘No shit Sherlock.’

‘Unless I’ve been wrong all this time, that is your job,’ Manicote replied, clearly pleased as punch over that one.

For what was probably the millionth time or some since he stepped foot on these islands, he wondered what the fuck he had gotten himself into.

He bid Manicote adieu and stepped out of the office.

His telephone rang and he picked it up.

‘Danno,’ he greeted, and Danny could hear Steve’s smile through the phone, ‘come down to my lab right now.’

‘And why should I?’ Danny asked, making sure that his voice sounded properly put upon.

‘I’ve got something for you,’ Steve’s voice sounded excited, ecstatic even, and who was Danny to refuse?

***

Danny reclined back onto the chair in front of Steve’s desk focussing on the way the man’s deft fingers were typing, the sounds of the keyboard like rapid fire in the otherwise silence of the office.

‘So, you want to tell me what this is about?’ Danny queried, settling down for the long haul.

‘It’s more fun if I keep you guessing,’ throughout all of this, he had not even stopped the typing, which was continuing apace.

‘I could either be shocked, pissed, or elated,’ Danny replied simply, waving his right hand ‘it’s totally up to you.  And besides, if its a gift, what kind of giftor hasn’t even finished with it before they tell the giftee that they could come down and get it?’

‘I’m sure you wouldn’t mind in this case. Almost done now.’

‘I imagine you must be a riot at birthdays,’ Danny deadpanned.

Steve’s typing slowed down and eventually he hit the enter key with a flourish ‘done, now’ he swivelled the large screen so that it faced Danny, and leaned over the length of the desk so that he may reach over and point at various things that were popping up on the screen.

Danny was slightly alarmed to find himself face to face with close up shots of John McGarrett’s bullet wound. Turning wide eyed to Steve, he raised an eyebrow and merely said ‘I demand my money back right now.’

Steve looked crestfallen, ‘and after I had worked so hard on this.’

Danny swung his gaze to meet hazel, which were glinting softly under the artificial light of the office, ‘why don’t you tell me what this means then? Other than the fact that you can’t follow even the most basic instructions given for your welfare.’

Steve looked down at his body before his gaze snapped back to Danny’s face, ‘I’m physically fine Danno, don’t get your knickers in a twist over nothing.’

‘Your _mental_ welfare, you prat,’ Danny scolded as he squashed the absurd urge to lean up just that little bit more and kiss him.

Steve snorted, ‘I’m fine, really,’ and at that point, through either magic or keen intuition, he leaned over just that little bit more and gave Danny a gentle kiss, nothing more than the brush of warm lip on warm lip, before retreating back and beginning his report.

‘Right,’ Steve started, ‘in all of the previous killings, we estimated that the height of the serial killer was between 6 ft 1 and 6 ft 3. Now, the position of entry and the trajectory of the bullet indicates that the person who killed the final victim (Danny noted how he didn’t say the name of the victim, as per the usual) was from 5 ft 8 to 6 ft.’ He flicked across various pictures of close-ups of bullet entry wounds and followed up with a series of diagrams of bullet trajectory.

‘So, you’ve found out that the last victim was not killed by the serial killer,’ Danny confirmed, ‘and if the fact that Kam Ho’s body was sliced and diced supports the fact that maybe, just maybe, someone came after the serial killer had killed Kam to dig and recover the bullet, so that they can make a duplicate.’

‘Copycat killing,’ Steve confirmed simply, ‘and I was able to lift a small strand of hair off the victim that was clearly not his own. I’ve got my best lab boy on this right now.’

Relief washed over Danny. ‘Right, good work’ he said, ‘come on, let’s head back up, we need to process all of this some more.’

Steve ejected the USB stick from his computer and pocketed it before Danny seized his arm and pulled him back upstairs. They re-entered Danny’s office to find a fresh (slightly cold though) bag of malasadas and pizza on the table in front of Danny’s usual spot on the sofa, and coffee bubbling merrily in the percolator.

Kono and Chin sat next to each other, with Kono glancing continually between the screen of Chin’s laptop, where he was typing furiously, and the sheaf of papers clutched in her hands, Danny could only catch snippets of their conversation, which was mumbled hard as fast and Danny was sure that they were not talking in English.

Danny pushed the door open, and they brought their gazes to meet his, and only then did he notice that Chin (he was guessing here) had procured a large screen which projected information from his laptop.

Steve moved past him to settle down on the sofa in his usual place as Danny eyed the pizza, before flipping open the box and decided he was pleased with the pepperoni selection in front of him, ‘you get top marks on the pizza guys, and how the hell did you know that I haven’t had lunch?’

‘Word spread on the coconut wireless that you were holed up with Manicote, then the Governor,’ Chin stated simply, ‘and it was Kono here who bought the food for you, brah.’

‘Thanks Kono,’ Danny said in between a mouthful of pepperoni and mozzarella, his throat working as he swallowed.

‘No problem boss, anytime,’ she beamed at him.

‘So how was the meeting by the way?’ Chin prompted, ‘is she glad with our progress on this case? She’s everywhere across the television at the moment,’ he picked up a remote and aimed it at the screen which flickered into life and Danny found himself staring back at an interview with the Governor in her office, spinning a web of well, Danny wouldn’t call them lies, but there was no way that they can be truths either.

‘We’re doing the best we can at the moment,’ Jameson confirmed confidently, flashing what most people would consider a charming smile, ‘we have our finest men and women working around the clock to apprehend this serial killer,’ she flicked her gaze to the television, looking straight at the lens, ‘so if you are watching, be careful, it won’t be long before my Five O task force find you.’

There were four pairs of rolling eyes after they watched the talk show host nod her head enthusiastically, a look of guileless trust and confidence shining brightly in her eyes.

‘Well, we feel very assured after that. And now, what do you have to say about Hiro Noshiyuri’s competitive bid for the role of Governor of Hawaii? How will you respond to it? Any pre-emptive strikes planned,’ the host asked cheekily.

Jameson chuckled warmly, her eyelids drooping such that the fan of false eyelashes was striking against her pale skin as she ducked her head slightly, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth as she laughed.

Danny was sure that she had spent hours in front of a mirror practicing this, no doubt about it.

‘Oh Lori, you make this seem like a battlefield,’ she said with mirth after a few moments, ‘I would just like to make this clear that I sincerely hope that the best person will win, and I intend to launch my election campaign with a loud bang through an official launch party at the Hawaiian Hilton, Grand Ballroom tonight at 7pm. Everyone is invited-’

Danny reached across the table and grabbed the remote sitting next to Chin and turned the damn thing off, before chucking it on the table where it clattered loudly, and bringing a hand up to run through his hair, pure anger bristling inside of him.

Apparently he was giving off really clear anger vibes, for the tension in the room ratcheted up with every passing second, along with bewilderment.

‘Danny, are you okay?’ Steve asked gently, and something warm bubbled up inside Danny when he caught the look of concern in those hazel eyes, and he began to feel a little bit better.

Not everyone in this world was out to use him, and that small thought gave him more comfort than he would ever admit.

He forced himself to calm down (annoyance crept up when he noticed that Kono minutely moved the coffee away from his hands) but couldn’t help the mirthless chuckle that escaped him.

‘It all makes sense, of course it does,’ he muttered darkly. Resentment raised its ugly head, as bitter as bile on the back of his throat. He reached over and seized the cup of coffee that Kono had been steadily inching away from him, glaring at her in the process, before taking a swig, savouring the chase of caffeine and roasted coffee as it slid down his throat.

Chin and Kono moved backwards a little bit, to give Danny some space, but Steve, that thick headed bugger, moved straight in, his thigh pressed firmly against Danny as he raised a hand and rubbed soothing circles onto his back, ‘how so, Danny?’ Steve asked.

Danny sighed. ‘In today’s meeting with Jameson she asked me to drop the request for surveillance on Hiro.’

Steve’s hand stilled for a minute, and his expression blanked out.

Kono brought her hands up to cover her mouth, ‘but we have evidence, we have a fucking case!’

‘Cuz, calm down,’ Chin spoke calmly, mirroring Steve’s actions by raising his hand and rubbing up and down her back gently.

‘What did you say to that?’ Steve’s voice was level and calm, but Danny was close enough to see that his pulse was racing.

He pushed away from Steve and looked at him squarely in the eye, ‘hold up, you did not just question me on that, after everything, every fucking little thing we’ve been through together, you-’

All of his indignation drained out of him as Steve looked at him with what could only be described as a tender version of that damn soft smile, the one which shot like an arrow straight through Danny’s will and resistance, like it was butter, or something fluid at the least, not ice.

‘So,’ he forced himself to continue more levelly, ‘I followed her orders, I told Manicote to drop the petition for the court order from Judge Robertson, and instead take the investigation into my own hands.’

‘You want to do a private investigation now?’ Chine queried.

Danny stared at him, ‘you betcha. This way, we are not bound by the confines of police procedure and law. We now have the full means to do whatever it takes.’

That soft smile on Steve’s face warped into a smug one, and something inside Danny caught that, and felt inexplicably happy, and he indulged in a small tentative smile back.

‘So you get to do what you want, so then, why were you so angry before?’ Kono asked.

Danny sighed, ‘I guess, I just felt used that’s all. After watching that small snippet of her interview, I deduce that she’s playing me like a fucking harp.’

‘Isn’t she playing us all?’ Chin raised, a contemplative look on his face, ‘if you think about it, we’re just the lowly pawns in the chess game that is politics between Hiro and Jameson right now.’

‘So who’s black and who’s white?’ Steve asked.

Chin smirked, his eyes crinkling upwards, ‘no idea. Sorry.’

 ‘Anyway,’ three pairs of eyes snapped back to Danny, ‘er, I realised that Jameson’s plan of attack this time around is not to resort to dirty laundry, intrigue and whatever else that comes with the whole political she-bang, but she’s going to play this on the down low. Through us.’

Danny could see the moment where the pieces fit together in Steve’s head and a knowing glint flashed in his eyes as he nodded. A few moments later, Chin understood.

‘That’s right,’ Chin murmured slowly, ‘it almost backfired on her during the last election period.’

Unfortunately, Kono was having no such luck, ‘what did?’

Danny decided to give her a little helping hand, ‘if Hiro and his team of spin-doctors got a chance to work their magic over this. They could play it so she as the big fish of Five O had ordered round the clock surveillance of her opposition. Think, Kono, what would the public think of her?’

Awareness dawned in Kono’s large brown eyes, ‘it would look like she was attacking Hiro’s personal character in a really bold way-’

‘Completely unbefitting of a lady,’ Danny quipped sassily.

Steve and Chin snorted.

‘-And she wants to attack his character, but not in a really obvious way, and we played right into it,’ Kono crossed her arms at this stage, clearly annoyed too, ‘she knew that no way could we just drop the investigation.’

‘So if everything goes pear shaped,’ Chin added, looking at Kono fondly, ‘she can emerge with clean hands, saying that we went out on a frolic of our own, and we take the blame.’

‘Oh my fucking God,’ was all that Kono could say afterwards.

‘But look on the bright side,’ Danny said nonchalantly as he reached for another piece of the now stone cold pizza, ‘we now have a trump card to play against her.’

A few beats of silence passed before Kono nodded, a sly smile sliding across her face and she laughed, ‘I guess the street does go both ways.’

Danny smiled warmly at her, ‘indeed it does. Okay, back to work guys. Let’s have a brief recap, in a moment.’ Danny ducked into his private bathroom and washed his hands and splashed some cold water on his face in the vein attempt that this would make him feel less dead than he actually looked. He re-emerged into the office and walked straight over to the whiteboard that had been moved into the far corner and started drawing a spider’s web of connections and links between all of the victims and Hiro. It was very muddled and links dragged everywhere, but they were still no closer to unearthing the mysterious connection between Kam Ho and Wo Fat other than the employer/employee relationship and the connection between Hiro and Wo Fat.

Wow, this Wo Fat guy was a fucking enigma, and Danny hated enigmas, cursing as he went over to the percolator to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee.  

The office was filled with discussion, Chin’s rapid fire typing as he transcribed everything that was said (Danny didn’t even bother raising his eyebrows at this) and the squeaking of the whiteboard marker as Danny wrote across the whiteboard.

‘I see a potential link here, it could be a series of retribution killings,’ Kono offered, ‘look, 5 of the serial killer’s victims had ties to the underworld; Boateng in child smuggling, Takamoto who needs no further mention, Kam Ho was a drug importer, Kaulani was a Samoan enforcer and Kang was a fence for the Triads.’

‘If this was gangland warfare,’ Steve mused out loud as he reclined on the chair, the way his body stretched out languidly on the sofa was almost obscene (in Danny’s opinion anyway), ‘there would be a more definite pattern, this is all over the place.’

‘Maybe its not retribution, but instead someone new is stepping onto the islands with interest in major crime, drug smuggling and who knows what else,’ Chin said as he looked away from the computer to briefly rub his eyes, and Danny wondered how the fuck he could this far without needing glasses, ‘word on the street is that Frank Salvo is coming in.’

Danny’s jaw dropped, ‘no fucking way.’

‘What, you know him?’ Kono asked.

‘Fuck yeah I do, he’s the underboss to the Salvo crime family with a mean streak the size of Wales, who was last seen expanding into Pennsylvania and New York with drug smuggling and prostitution. I was on first name terms with him, that’s how close we were,’ Danny stated flatly.

Steve nodded, ‘I see.’

‘But I’ve heard that Salvo’s having troubles as he’s trying to avoid an all out blood bath. Him and the other 2 crime families are sick and tired of the Crinitis’ stepping over everyone’s shoes and that a turf war is imminent at this stage,’ Danny shot back.

‘According to this, he’s still in Hoboken,’ Chin asserted, his gaze scanning what Danny imagined to be air ticket bookings, rail, bus and ferry bookings as well, ‘but it is still possible that he could come by car.’

‘Right, if Salvo were to come onto these islands, the killings could be orchestrated as a display of power and a kind of _good to be here nice to meet you all_ sort of thing, but there’s one small issue with this theory.’

‘What?’ Chin asked.

‘I know how Salvo operates,’ Danny replied, heaving an exasperated sigh, ‘I’ve been chasing him for over 7 bloody long years, and I know that he is the silent and deadly type, he would rather smile at you and then implicate you for some terrible crime rather than shooting your face. He is that kind of guy.’

‘Alright, that makes sense,’ Chin acquiesced, ‘but still we should consider the possibilities.’

Danny flipped the white board over to the other side and rubbed off the names that they had written two days ago off, before writing ‘POSSIBILITIES’ in large capital letters and underlining for emphasis, he then wrote Salvo and drew an arrow, before jotting down ‘move to Hawaii.’

‘That’s good people,’ Danny said, beaming at them all, ‘another possibility was mentioned to me today, and it makes a lot of sense.’

‘Share with the class please,’ Kono prompted.

‘Our serial killer may actually be someone very close to this investigation.’ At these words, Steve sat up a little straighter on the couch, his eyes fixed intently on Danny, and trying like hell to quell the feelings of nausea that come with unbridled nervousness and anxiety when something gets too close for comfort.  He just hoped that the hand that had moved to clutch his knee was not shaking.

Hopefully.

‘Whoever gave you the idea?’ Chin asked.

‘Wo Fat did,’ Danny answered to Chin’s raised eyebrow, ‘hear it out, it actually makes sense.’

‘Wo Fat is a person of interest in all of this,’ Kono said slowly, ‘how do we know that what he is saying is, er, not what they call a red herring?’

‘I’m sure I can be trusted to spot on when I see one Kono,’ Danny said tonelessly, ‘anyway, hear me out,’ he repeated, ‘the victims were killed in roughly one week intervals apart from each other, which would indicate that the serial killer had to conduct some research into their victims. Now, the victims were chosen because they had committed serious, heinous crimes. Some may argue crimes against humanity, but I think that that is going a bit far. So yeah, we’re looking for-’

‘Someone with access to the HPD,’ Chin finished for him. His typing got just that side of faster, and he pulled the data access logs and projected them from his laptop onto the main stream. His brow furrowed as he scrolled down the page quickly, only to be met with three other disappointed looks (Steve was silently thanking God, Jesus, all the Saints in his head) as the search yielded nothing, Steve’s name not turning up anywhere.

‘Fuck that Chin, lets just say that we’re looking for a cop, or at the very least, someone with access to the HPD mainframe’ Danny said bluntly, eyeing Chin, ‘hmmm, that’s interesting, I was expecting your name to turn up here Steve.’

‘Hmm,’ Steve said, playing along, ‘does that mean that they deleted the entire access history then?’

‘Yeah, fuck we may be dealing with someone really high up in the HPD here, obviously someone with high clearance to access whatever they want. Who comes to mind?’

‘The governor-’ Kono started, but was interrupted by Danny.

‘No, seriously. Who would have the clearance to do such a thing like this, and a practical reason to do something about it because not everyone has clearance to access these things?’

‘HPD lab boys then?’  Kono continued.

‘Yeah, yeah, that sounds about right,’ Danny agreed, ‘Chin, I want you to pull the complete file on everyone in the HPD Forensics Department with clearance to do such a thing and go over them, see if anything turns up.’

‘Right boss,’ Chin said, making a note to do it after the meeting was done.   

‘But what about the final victim?’ Steve asked quietly, ‘he didn’t commit any crimes against anyone, anything, so why was he killed? I think that that was a copycat killing.’

‘Yes, the final victim was an anomaly,’ Danny stated, his voice softening at catching the small nature of Steve’s voice.

‘How so?’ asked Chin.

‘The trajectory and position of entry of the bullet in all cases except the last one indicate that the serial killer was between 6 ft 1 and 6 ft 3. Now, the position of entry and the trajectory of the bullet indicates that the person who killed the final victim was from 5 ft 8 to 6 ft,’ Steve parroted.  

‘So they were killed by two different people,’ Danny confirmed.

‘But if so, then why?’ Kono challenged, it seemed that she had a lot of questions today, ‘why would someone feel the need to set up a copycat killing?’

‘Good! A new angle,’ Danny turned around and scribbled some more onto the whiteboard, ‘copy cat killing and real serial killer’ he read out as he wrote, pen squeaking and all, ‘this is very possible because we know that the bullet was retrieved from Kam Ho’s body after the murder, because all lab reports indicate that the bullet was retrieved after death. So someone could’ve taken the bullet to create a copy of it to try and hide the their involvement in the final victim’s murder,’ he reasoned, clearly pleased with himself.

‘Someone with a reason to kill the final victim,’ said Chin, a determined look setting down on his face, ‘now who could that be?’

‘Hiro,’ Steve murmured quietly, and Danny was dismayed that by now his face was pale and borderline ashen, his eyes were slightly bugging out and he looked like he was fighting the fight or flight instinct, as if something that they had been discussing was cutting too close to comfort for Steve.

‘There may be a connection between Hiro and Boateng, though as well,’ Danny reasoned slowly, ‘because Boateng was killed in the small alleyway between a club that he owned and a club where Hiro was the silent partner.’

It was also on the tip of Danny’s tongue to tell, hell, _order_ Steve to take the day off, maybe tomorrow as well, but he knew more than anyone that this was the closest chance for catharsis that he had. And who was Danny to deny him that?

Steve had seen his fair share of truly awful stuff, and perhaps, just perhaps, this was another notch he could add to his increasing number of increasingly disturbing cases that he has worked on.

Right.

‘And I have a feeling,’ Danny said, ‘that once we can find the copy cat killer, they will lead us to the real serial killer, through plea bargaining of anything’ he couldn’t help it, but he was sure sheer unadulterated glee was spreading slowly across his features. Gentlemen, and ladies,’ he added, after catching Kono’s glare, ‘I think it’s time to pay Hiro Noshiyuri a visit.’

***

Hiro Noshiyuri was a middle-aged man with an air of no-nonsense seriousness about him that constituted the stuff of dreams for Danny. They met him in the offices of the Chamber of Commerce just a stone’s throw down the road in the Imperial building, a lush set of very expensive offices that had Danny questioning everything he had heard on the news about how retailers and sellers were doing it tough in this economic climate.

His office was in a pristine location on the top floor, and if today had been sunny, it would have been a very nice place to be, warm sunlight streaming through the windows bathing everyone and everything in warmth, but it was still pouring, so of course, the office was not as nice a place to be (just saying). The interior was what one would call a comfortable, nothing special; except for the glorious view all the way out into the ocean on a clear day behind Hiro’s back. It was a stark contrast to the opulence of Jameson’s office, old and worn and comfortable, as opposed to decadent and new.

‘Hello,’ Hiro greeted cheerfully, ‘what can I do for you today? Please, sit down,’ he buzzed the receptionist on the intercom asking for an extra chair for Steve, who had resorted to standing in front of the desk, looming over everyone. It was kind of creepy.

But anyway, soon enough the receptionist came through the door and pushed a chair into the room, which Steve accepted with muttered thanks, before plopping down on it, crossing his legs and fixing an intense stare on Hiro, who was unfazed as ever.

‘Would any of you like something to drink?’ Hiro offered, ‘we have fresh _matcha_ from the fields of Yame, extraordinary stuff.’

‘No thank you, we don’t want to take up too much of your time,’ Danny said, lacing his fingers together on his lap as he thought of how best to begin this.

He settled for, ‘Do you know a man called Adnoatina Boateng?’ Danny fished a photograph of the man out for Hiro to look at.

A few seconds passed, ‘yes, I do know him’ Hiro admitted, ‘he owns Pulse, a club next to one of the clubs in which I have a proprietary interest in, why do you ask?’

‘He was killed by the serial killer in the alleyway between Club Envy and Pulse,’ Danny answered, his gaze unflinching as he searched for any deflection, shift or tic in Hiro’s body language, unfortunately, there was none, ‘we were wondering if you were there on the evening of April 9 2011?’

‘No I wasn’t,’ Hiro answered straight away, ‘I was with my wife and daughter in Japan, celebrating the _Miyako Odori_ in Kyoto. Is there any reason why you would suspect my involvement in this?’

‘We are questioning everyone even remotely related to any of the victims,’ Danny deflected smoothly, ‘in the off chance that someone may have seen or heard anything that would be of help to us.’

‘You are more than welcome to question any of the men working at the club that night, I’m sure they know more than me about these kinds of things,’ he announced, smiling warmly, ‘they should be able to tell you what happened that night, if anything actually did.’

‘Thank you Mr Noshiyuri,’ Steve spoke up, his voice cool and even, ‘we appreciate your help, but let us decide what we can and cannot do,’ it was barely there, but there was just a thread of anger in his voice, which was understandable all the same, and Danny made a mental note to talk to Steve later about playing it cool for the whole nine yards.

‘Thank you Steven,’ Danny spoke authoritatively, staring at Steve and willing him into silence, ‘so Mr Noshiyuri, is there anything else you can think of that may help us?’

‘I’m sorry, but nothing comes to mind at the moment,’ he leaned back on the chair, reclining as he surveyed the team in front of him, ‘do you have a number I could contact you on should I have anything of value to you?’

‘Here,’ Danny handed him his business card, ‘contact me at that number at anytime, should you have anything for us.’

‘Thank you,’ Hiro bowed his head politely in thanks as he accepted the card with two hands, and then lifted a small black leather business card folder from the inside pocket of his jacket, slipping it in and placing it back inside, ‘was there anything else I could help you with?’

‘Yes actually,’ Danny said after a few beats of silence, ‘I would like to know if you knew a police officer by the name of John McGarrett?’

There was a collective intake of breath at the mention of that name. Out of the corner of Danny’s eye he could see that Steve’s expression was carefully blank, and that the knuckles on the hand gripping his knees were white, and there was just the slightest of tremors, and Danny could tell that Steve was throwing everything into remaining impassive, despite the very personal nature of this case for him.  

A few beats of silence ensued as he stretched and flexed his fingers, the signet ring catching slightly on the wooden desk, making scrapping sounds, ‘he led an investigation against me,’ Hiro said after a few moments, avoiding Danny’s eyes.

Danny moved in more strongly, ‘what type of investigation?’

Hiro flicked his dark brown gaze to look intently at Danny, ‘I suggest you look over his files on me, they will reveal all you need to know about this. I have nothing further to say about any of this.’

‘Please, I would appreciate you assistance here. If you have nothing to hide, then there is nothing for you to fear,’ Danny said reasonably, turning a knowing look on Hiro.

He sighed, and buzzed the intercom asking his secretary to bring in a glass of lemon lime bitters with five ice cubes before continuing, ‘I have nothing to hide, as you say, and I would respectfully ask you to please accept what I say is truth. What I am about to say is all documented in the HPD case history, there is nothing new. Thirty years ago, John McGarrett suspected that I was involved with corruption in our law enforcement agencies,’ his face twisted at the suggestion, contorting into an expression of furious denial, ‘but he wasn’t able to prove anything, so he dropped the case.’

The secretary sauntered into the office at the moment and placed the glass of lemon lime bitters on the desk with a coaster underneath it for Hiro, bowed her head at him slightly, and exited the room, shutting the door with a firm snap.

‘We have to take issue with that, sir’ Danny said respectfully, ‘according to our files, John McGarrett closed the investigation following the sudden and tragic death of his wife and there was no conclusive evidence of your innocence. He did not close it based on inconclusive evidence whatsoever.’

If anything, instead of being provoked into furious denial and playing the diplomatic immunity card like Danny was expecting, he just slouched back in the chair, as relaxed as ever, and smiled, ‘go ahead, by all means, you can open the investigation again, I doubt you will find anything, because I have done nothing wrong.’

Chin and Kono’s gazes were fixed on Danny now, but Steve’s eyes were fixed outside the window, taking the relative magnificence of the mountains and ocean that loomed before the horizon under the murky grey wetness of the constant rain. He seriously wanted to hit the man, maybe punch out a light or two, before pulling out the .38 and slugging him one but given the tight heat surrounding him at the moment, he was still sane enough to realise that that would be a monumentally bad idea, so instead settled for scowling at the man.

Steve could literally see the light bulb flash on in Danny’s mind when he realised just what Hiro was playing them for.

‘You want us to open the investigation again, so you have another bullet to shoot at our Governor,’ Danny said logically after a few moments, ‘you want to play this thing in the media to the fullest extent, don’t you? Something along the lines of alleging dirty laundry claims and sensationalist drivel that will appeal to the masses, who will be stupid enough to regard it as truth.’

‘I am a politician Detective Williams,’ Hiro said in way of reply, waving a hand lazily in the air.

Danny stood up, ‘Thank you, we’ve taken enough of your time. Good day,’ and the Five O team got up as a collective unit, and exited the small office. Hiro gave them a few moments head start before buzzing his secretary on the intercom to make sure that they were safely speeding away in the Camaro, only then did he retrieve a disposable mobile phone from his pocket, and dialled the sole number on the contacts list.

An identical phone was picked up in a nondescript house in Honolulu.

‘Yes?’

Hiro rushed into the phone in a voice barely above a whisper, ‘Williams is not buying into any of this! He refuses to go along with the plan.’

‘Don’t worry, because he will be damned if he doesn’t and damned if he does,’ Wo Fat’s voice spoke coolly from the other side, ‘we just have to put a bit more heat on the prodigal son, so that he will see the error of his ways.’

‘Just watch out you stupid fucker,’ Hiro snarled into the phone, ‘its not your head on the chopping block, its mine here!’

‘Duly noted, now, during Detective Williams’ questioning, how did Steve react?’

Hiro considered this for a few moments, ‘he looked like he wanted to exact extreme physical violence on me, and how could he not? Seeing as I am responsible for the car bombing that killed his mother!’

‘We are going to use that to our advantage,’ Wo Fat pointed out.

‘How?’ Hiro asked incredulously.

‘We are going to draw the serial killer out of his hibernation, we are going to force him to make a mistake, a fatal one, and we are going to watch the accident happen in front of our eyes. Now, I will hang up the phone, because I need to call Victor. Good afternoon.’

***

Danny sent Kono, Chin and Steve home for a change of clothes and ordered them to bring an overnight bag, seeing as they were all in this for the long haul, and felt really refreshed after the hot shower, which had eased the aches in his muscles and the protest that he bum knee had given him through out the whole day so far.

He had pinched the bridge of his nose in a very feeble attempt to stave of the migraine blooming behind his eyelids. His stomach objected to more coffee and he was pretty sure he was going to need something stronger than _Mylanta_ for the acid, maybe some _Somac._ He took a brief shower when he got back into the office and changed into a set of clothes that sat in the overnight bag in the boot of the Camaro, with Danny becoming shocked that only this morning had he and Steve been over to his place, and Steve had helped him packed up whatever he wanted to take with him.

As he was standing in front of the mirror running a comb and probably half a tub of _Dax Wax_ through his hair, the ever recalcitrant hoodlum, he froze mid-stroke as he considered what this meant. The implication startling him so much that he dropped the comb, the clatter against the tile reverberating loudly inside his private bathroom.  

Fuck it, he may have just tumbled into the first real, relationship with anyone since Rachel left him, and truly the universe was conspiring against him, as he had no fucking idea when or how it happened.

 _When the fuck did it start?_

Was it when they first met, when they were pressed intimately against each other in that dirty, filthy alleyway somewhere in Chinatown? Was it when they shared pizza in the office or when Danny had raved at Kono’s naïveté or that evening after the awful discovery on the sugar cane field?

When had their friendship, camaraderie, companionship, fuck it, when had it morphed into _this_?

Jameson had merely been a catalyst, all things considered. 

It was one thing to be physically attracted to the man (Danny had already had his Big Gay Freak Out way back in Hoboken, nothing special there) because who wouldn’t be drawn to Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome? Those chiselled features and expressive hazel eyes, that at times appeared more stormy blue than not, mirroring the turmoil that simmered underneath the façade of professionalism there, that fucking vulnerability rendering the man human, and stunning, in Danny’s opinion. The rock hard abs and tall lithe form were a fucking bonus.

It was one thing to lust after the man, but it was a completely different matter at hand, a completely different can of worms to actually want to get to know him better, want to insinuate himself in Steve’s life without nary a backwards glance, without a thought in the world to what it would mean and what would happen.

Danny Williams had fallen for Steve McGarrett in the most horribly clichéd way, and it was so fucking ridiculous that he had no freaking clue of it either. He allowed the groan to slip past his lips.

He had experienced the same feelings with Rachel in the beginning, it had started as friends and then it became lovers and then there was a wedding band on his finger and a baby on the way before he knew it. Everything in his life happened quickly and in the blink of an eye, so Danny couldn’t say that he was too surprised that this was going to happen like this anyway.

If he was totally honest with himself, he kind of liked being swept up in the whirlwind with this thing with Steve, liked how the man had not even uttered a peep when Danny would turn up to his house uninvited, or else the man had barged into his office with pizza and beer and whatever else, how they could spend hours and hours and hours in each other’s company and never tire of each other, how he stole Danny’s malasadas and brought him coffee and tried to cheer him up when the going got tough in his unique special way and most importantly…

How everything, all the barriers that Steve had constructed around himself to keep the hurt and pain and that fucking chip on his shoulder the size of Scotland away from his waking thoughts came tumbling down around him like a house of cards when it was just Steve and himself, and Danny felt privileged to be privy to that.

There was a knock on the door, and Steve’s amused voice floated through the door, ‘hey Danno, get your ass out here, it doesn’t matter if your freaking coif is not perfect, I love you just the way you are.’

Something broke inside Danny then, and he wiped at the suspicious wetness at the corners of his eyes and stepped back into the office, a feeling of lightness and warmth seeping down to his very bones.

He came face to face with a refreshed looking Steve, hair still slightly damp from his shower, ease settling down in his shoulders and a soft smile on his lips. Chin and Kono were nowhere to be seen.

Danny had just glared at Steve some, before mock-scolding in a voice with no true heat, ‘hello? Does this look like a freaking coif to you? I’m sorry but it’s not my fault if your knowledge of hair cuts are limited to the regulation one.’

Steve gave him the stink eye at that moment and he just looked, there were no words to describe it, and Danny couldn’t resist it, no fucking way, and he pulled Steve against him and crushed their lips together, savouring the way warmth radiated between their bodies between their shirts and sighed into the kiss when he could feel Steve’s arms snake up behind him to pull him all that much closer.

‘Danno, wha-’ all further questions and even thought processes were shut off as Danny clamped his lips firmly over Steve’s, so that any protest, hell sound, was muffled.

Danny was kissing him earnestly, and their tongues intertwined before Steve mumbled something, it sounded like a protest, but then they were tumbling backwards where Steve must have hit the edge of the sofa and Steve fell backwards onto it with Danny following him, his knee jarring slightly as it hit the edge of the coffee table with a loud thud, but Danny didn’t care, not one fucking bit. He couldn’t help himself and brought his hands to cup Steve’s face, stroking the stubble there lightly before bringing them to rest at the back of Steve’s head, earning him a small mew of approval.

Something buzzed in Steve’s pocket and they broke apart, equal amounts of fierce heat radiating up their necks and they were breathing rather heavily, keen interest evident in their slightly darkened gazes. He tried to multitask and one hand was still clawing at Danny’s shirt as the other reached into the pocket to extract his iPhone.

Danny cursed the stupid thing to hell in his head but Steve was unsuccessful and the thing tumbled to the floor, and somehow speakerphone had been activated.

‘Hello? Doctor McGarrett? Are you there?’ a small male voice asked across the line. Danny pushed back and stared at Steve, crossing his arms.

‘Yes,’ Steve said, in between breaths as he fought to sound relatively normal, bringing a hand to wipe at his mouth, ‘go ahead Cameron, did you find a match for the hair sample?’

‘We did sir,’ Cameron confirmed, no small amount of pride oozing from his voice, ‘there is a positive match in the FBI database.’

Danny stared at the phone now, ‘FBI Database?’ he echoed.

‘Indeed, and hello to you too Detective Williams sir,’ Cameron said knowingly, and Danny barely stifled his groan and his face grew all that much hotter.

‘Well,’ Steve said impatiently, ‘who is it?’

‘It’s Victor Hesse.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to tell me what you think in a comment, or else leave a kudos (if you haven't already done so) if you like this! :)


	21. A Tempest of Smoke and Mirrors

‘It’s Victor Hesse.’

Steve’s grip on Danny’s arms eased as they both stared down at the iPhone on the floor. _  
_

 _Who the fuck was Victor Hesse?_ Danny thought idly.

Worry washed over Danny once he caught sight of the fleeting murderous expression on Steve’s face, which actually had him easing off Steve’s torso, well, as far as Steve would let him, considering that Steve’s arms still held folds of Danny’s shirt in them. He was still, for the most of it, sprawled out on top of Steve, a leg resting lazily between the vee of Steve’s legs, his chest pressed flat on Steve’s such that Danny could feel Steve with every movement, every breath.

There were a few beats of absolutely sterling silence, where it was so quiet that Danny could quite clearly hear their mingled breathing and the rapid beating of his heart, which had lodged a lump in his throat, and showed no sign of wanting to move anywhere.

The rain overhead continued unrelentingly.

‘Are you definitely certain about this Cameron,’ Steve spoke out, his voice taking on a brisk note, his head tilted to the side such that Danny could see the rapid beating of his pulse, could feel the tremors of anger thrumming through Steve as he tensed.

‘Yes sir,’ Cameron replied meekly, ‘it’s a 100% match.’

‘Thank you,’ Steve reached under the coffee table to retrieve the iPhone and hung up, sliding the screen lock into place before pocketing it.

‘Steve,’ Danny murmured softly, a hand coming up to cup Steve’s chin, the skin so hot there it could have burned and something shattered inside Danny when Steve averted his gaze, refusing to meet his inquisitive, concerned one.

Finally, the hand that had been clinging determinedly to Danny finally let go, leaving behind knotted and crumpled material, which had once been pristine.

***

Victor reclined back in his chair at the house where the drop off was going to take place, a half smoked cigarette clutched loosely in his left hand. He hated waiting, he hated having to be stuck in this shithole because there was nothing to do, nowhere to go. He was literally stuck in the middle of nowhere, in an area where houses dotted the scene intermittently and sugar cane stretched as far as the eye could see, waving their leaves lazily in the cool night time breeze in a pathetic imitation of the ubiquitous palm trees which seemed to be everywhere on this fucking island.

He reached idly into his pocket to retrieve the disposable phone, the same bloody type that Hiro and Wo Fat kept on insisting to use, the paranoid fuckers, which had no games and no internet connection, but that was given since he was so far away from civilization at the moment that any contact was nigh on impossible as there was only one bar of reception, which flickered at best, so even if there was no way the drop could be made tonight, he’d have no way of knowing, and no option but to wait it out until someone drove up here, and told him to get the fuck out.

He took a deep drag of the cigarette, savouring the way it burned the imprint of warmth into his lungs, swelling, curling inside of him, so good and glorious, only to come rushing out of him, as gently as a warm caress.

It must be a pretty huge fucking drop, because usually that Kam guy would have just gotten his brother (Victor could never remember the guy’s name) to make the drop to all of their distributors and Kam would deliver the best quality horse to Nine Dragons, to Wo Fat himself. He abruptly stopped that dangerous line of thought, all those years of living in the darkness of the night with the constant fear that someone was going to stab you in the back real and evident had taught him that one of the hardest and fastest rules that a guy like him had to live by was to avoid asking to many questions, to learn how to shut off his mind to everything when it wasn’t needed.

It had saved his life more times than he could care to remember, and why change a good thing?

The pay was good on these jobs, more than he could have ever imagined getting back at home in Belfast, or even as a gunrunner between Hawaii and Singapore. Wo Fat and Hiro paid good bread, hot enough that you had to eat it right away, but still dough all the same, and they expected you to work like a dog for it.

If it came down to the real nitty gritty of it though, he still didn’t trust Hiro and Wo Fat as far as he could throw them, what with all of their political pandering and wishy washy public persona nonsense. At the end of the day, they were still politicians, especially dirty and sleezy ruthless ones at that.

But whatever, it wasn’t his job to ask questions, he was here as the muscle, and that was that.

The house he was in sat on the property adjacent to Kam Ho’s one, and he snorted that the police hadn’t even bothered to run a title search on the property, which would have revealed that this house was owned by a pseudonym of Hiro’s, Takeshi Kaga. It was really in need of repair, with the wind whistling through the cracks in the walls and windows, half of which were cracked and broken. An air of dampness, of mould and mildew permeated his surroundings, as rainwater seeped in slowly through the cracks.  To make a package complete, there was even no electricity in this place, such that whatever light filtered in through whatever holes and cracks it could squish and push through, but Victor didn’t mind.

He snorted, and took another deep drag from his cigarette, before stubbing it out on the already overflowing ashtray and seized a fresh one from the packet in his left pocket next to the small butterfly knife and lit up again.

Even when the clues were staring at them in the face, the pigs could not even see them. But to their defense Hiro had let the place fall into disrepair, looking abandoned, even going so far as to pay some local street kids money to make the place look squatted in, such that anyone passing by would not have given it a second glance.

Victor took another drag of the cigarette and blew the smoke out in a lazy ‘s’ shape, acutely listening for the sounds of movement outside, a footstep here, a crunch of dirt and gravel there, stealing the mobile back in his pocket with a long suffering sigh. Now that the rain had eased, it was much easier, and he didn’t have to worry about the incessant pounding of water on the dilapidated roof to hide the sound of footsteps, of beating hearts, of danger itself.

He took to staring at the cold gleam of metal of the revolver sitting on the table in front of him with a small cardboard box of bullets next to it as he continued to smoke cigarettes like each and every one was his last one.

***

Danny moved off Steve and went over to the water cooler to get him a foam cup of water, holding it out with outstretched hands. Steve took the cup with muttered thanks before sculling more than half of it in one go. Grim resolution shone in those eyes, and Danny’s worry went up to a whole new level. Whatever madness or insanity lurked in there, Danny was going to try and ameliorate the damage. Whilst he wasn’t sure what was going to go down exactly, he was definitely sure that someone was going to be there to stop Steve from going off the deep end of the ocean, to anchor him to reality and haul him back to the shore, back to people.

‘Who is Victor Hesse?’ Danny asked gently.

Steve couldn’t bring himself to meet Danny’s eyes and settled for mumbling as he stared at his hands, ‘Victor Hesse is-’ he couldn’t finish the thought, and instead retrieved his USB from his pocket and handed it over to Danny, who took it and grabbed the Macbook Pro that Gracie and Rachel had gotten him sitting in a drawer before settling back down on the sofa, next to Steve and booting the computer up.

After a few moments the USB was plugged in and Danny was face to face with a complete list of FBI and Interpol reports on Hesse, who had apparently been around the world more times than Danny could count and his face drained of colour just as rapidly as it had gathered there.

‘It didn’t matter who or what or where, once the order came from overhead, Hesse just went ahead and did it, it didn’t matter that there were women and children involved, he just did it,’ Steve admitted in a small voice, albeit a firm and resolved one at that.

Victor was an Irish Catholic from Belfast who was initially part of the IRA, but turned mercenary when the Good Friday Agreement was signed way back when in 1998 and had subsequently immigrated to American seeking his fortune with his brother Anton. According to these files, he even made it as far as a college diploma in engineering studies before turning to a life of crime peppered with arrests (and jail time, no doubt) for everything from grand larceny to felonious assault.

He had been a little fish in a big pool of sharks who drifted in and out of correctional facilities on the mainland until the tables turned in 2003 with the murder of Anton by the Samoans here over on the Big Island which led to him linking up with the Triads where he worked as an enforcer in their gambling dens, forcing recalcitrant gamblers to cough up before they could hitch up their skirts and run upon fear of death. He was so good at his job that eventually the outfit sent him out here to these islands to keep an eye on operations, and to prevent the Samoans and the Yakuza from claiming the Triad’s turf.

‘So it seems we have our stereotypical Mr. Tough Guy,’ Danny smirked. He swiped three fingers on the touchpad and brought up an FBI report on Hesse, which linked the Irish sod to the suspected murders of over thirty men, women and children who were in some way tied to the enemies of the Triads, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the horrible evidence that Hesse had shot countless children in cold blood, who had done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve this. Disgust welled up inside him, at how someone like this could have an endless paper trail behind them, so well documents, almost lovingly, yet the end of the paper trail was nowhere to be seen.

Hesse was going to continue to keep doing this right until either someone killed him, or he got caught. Danny wasn’t picky at this stage, either option would be good.

‘I’ve been chasing Victor Hesse over the past 5 years for every gang related murder here on these islands,’ Steve finally answered, head in his hands, ‘some of the things he has done -- they -- I -- Danny-’

‘Shhh,’ Danny soothed, rubbing a hand on Steve’s back, ‘it’s alright. Calm down babe, deep breaths.’

‘No!’ Finally, did those hazel eyes, more stormy blue than not, finally, did they meet soft blue ones, ‘this guy, the things he has done,’ Steve was on the verge of hyperventilation by now, and Danny cursed that there was nary a paper bag anywhere in their immediate vicinity.

Steve just shook his head as it hung between his outstretched legs.

Danny had never been one to practice any of that walking on eggshells crap they generally recommend when you’re dealing with this type of thing. He had always been a firm believer in the direct and blunt approach, because hey, what was a bit of hatred now when they could be thanking you for the rest of their lives, when all the negative feelings and emotions would become insignificant, like a salt-encrusted empty shell on the beach of hundreds of other shells?

Yes, he strongly believed in staring your demons straight in the eye and applying cool and collected logic in the face of irrationality when the going got tough, and this was one of those circumstances. 

‘So I guess this means that we have proof that Victor Hesse killed your father, Steve,’ Danny said gently, ‘we can finally put him behind bars where he belongs, you should take solace in that.’

‘Yeah, I guess you’re right, Danno,’ a small tentative smile broke out over those features, and Danny could see the first timid steps towards catharsis, towards closure and being alright again, and he was pleased. Pleased for himself and pleased for Steve, pleased that they could put this awful chapter behind them, and focus on the future.

Danny picked up the office telephone and called Chin and then Kono, telling them to take the night off, and he felt a pang of guilt when he caught wind of the tired sound of their voices, so exhausted that they couldn’t stop the note of happiness that burst forward when the decent prospect of food and sleep (in no particular order) was closer to them then it seemed three hours ago.

Danny looked at Steve, knowledge glinting softly in his eyes, ‘you ready, Steve?’

Steve smiled back, ‘I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go book ‘em, Danno,’ he got up off the sofa and moved passed Danny towards the door, their shoulders lightly brushing.

Danny spun around and stared, ‘book ‘em Danno?’ he spluttered, ‘what the fuck was that? Who are you to be telling me, your superior, to ‘book ‘em?’’

He knew he was officially screwed when Steve turned that damn soft smile at him again (good gravy his bum knee almost gave out) and he was so glad to see it again, fully and unequivocally bright and radiant, as much as the midday sun, that he found his anger and annoyance dissipating again and replaced with a sense of gladness.

‘Are you, will you be saying that to me every single goddamn time we have to arrest someone? Because I will tell you now that is so not cool, not at all. _I_ should be the one telling _you_ to book ‘em.’

‘Ah, but you see,’ Danny noticed the dramatic lightening of Steve’s voice, it still wasn’t in the region of pleasantness when Danny first met Steve, but he was sure that it would get back there eventually, and it was a good thing that it was in the general vicinity, ‘I’m not a police officer, I don’t have authority to arrest people.’

‘Sure, you don’t have the authority to arrest people, but you can cut them up and stick pointy things in their bodies in the name of the law,’ Danny shot back.

‘Corpses, Danno, not people,’ an amused lilt coloured Steve’s voice, ‘I know, it’s an unfair world, right?’

‘You’re a doctor,’ Danny said in way of reply, rolling his eyes, ‘nothing is stopping you from uprooting your sorry ass and going to work in a hospital or wherever it is you sad, sad masochists go to get your depraved hijinks. Ergo, you also can’t shoot people because God would not allow depraved people like you to corner the market in satisfaction.’

‘Whereas you can,’ Steve said, a hand coming up to rub slightly at his stubble, contemplation gleaming in his eyes as a vicious smile curled on his lips, ‘and just for that, next time you need an injection, I’ll tell them to give it to you without anesthetic.’

‘See you can still shoot people, albeit not with a gun and I knew it, deep down inside there is a masochist in you who probably gets off at seeing other people in pain, why else would you choose a profession where half your time is spent restraining people as you do unbearably painful things to them?’

Steve snorted, ‘we give people injections, not shoot them. There is a very clear difference. We shoot into the veins, whereas you shoot at the kneecaps, most likely.’

‘Hey, to disarm, not to kill’ Danny prompted, and Steve was utterly perturbed at satisfaction that stole over him seeing Danny practically bristling with annoyance, ‘do I look like a gangster to you? Or even better, do I look like James Bond?’

Steve made a show of tilting his head a peering critically at Danny, ‘you’re missing the Seville Row jacket and the bowtie,’ he quipped back, and Danny knew an actual urge to wipe the smirk of Steve’s face he knew would be there, ‘and I think you’re 7 inches too short.’

‘Fuck you,’ Danny said tersely, ‘well, you’re no Ursula Andress.’

Steve pouted at him, and he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

‘You just haven’t seen me in my swim shorts, Danno,’ he said in way of reply, and winked, ‘and while you may be no James Bond, you would most definitely make a fine gangster.’

Things were going to be alright, as Steve appeared to have had his closure on all of this and things were back on the rebound.

‘Remind me to definitely shoot _you_ in the kneecaps later,’ Danny muttered, as he went over to his desk and pulled out his gun in its holster and a couple of spare mags before sliding the holster on his hip and pulling his jacket on (the summer weight linen one of course, who could wear wool in this weather) and grabbed a small black notebook from yet another drawer and a pen before walking over to the Macbook and scribbling down the address and using Bluetooth to print a copy of Hesse’s picture, even though he really didn’t need one because Steve probably knew what the man looked like anyway. But it was procedure, and Danny liked procedure.

’Last known address was hmm, Iowa, not helpful at all, but hmm, his daughter Caroline Hesse is listed at 95 Wanokanaka St, Honolulu’ Danny muttered as he folded the screen down and watched the Apple logo fade out, ‘come on, we’ve dilly-dallied here long enough, let’s go get Hesse, you need anything?'

‘Yeah,’ said Steve, ‘I need to grab some stuff from the lab. I’ll meet you at the Camaro in a few,’ he finally pulled open the door, and with a fluid step across the threshold, he was gone.

Danny made sure he had his gun, mobile, badge, wallet and keys before shutting off the light and stepping out of the office. He took the elevator down and stepped out into the balmy night time air, the smell of fresh earth that comes after rain assaulting his senses. The rain had stopped (temporarily at least) and he was glad.

His footsteps squished and squelched under the puddles of water, before he reached the Camaro, popped open the boot to retrieve two tac-vests and it was then did he see, illuminated by the boot light in the right hand corner, the unzipped overnight duffel bag with Grace’s picture sitting on top, the one that Steve had wrapped delicately and snuck in there, without Danny’s knowledge.

Danny knew that Steve knew that Grace was the world to him, his little bundle of pride and joy and that wherever this picture was, that was where Danny’s home would be. He placed Steve’s tac-vest onto the hood of the car and started to unfasten the Velcro on his.

As he slid on the tac-vest, Danny’s heart started doing flip-flops in his chest as the full weight of what this all meant fully dawned on him; what he had gotten himself into, what delicate thing he had with Steve, how all of these things combined to make him feel things which, before meeting Steve, he had believed himself too jaded to be capable of.

When the concept of ‘home’ was raised now, he no longer thought of the streets of Newark, with their well beaten pavements and actual honest to goodness snow in winter, he no longer thought of the restaurants with their authentic Italian food nor did he think of the old Precinct with his Captain and the rookies who just wouldn’t shut up. Instead, he pictured sunshine, as warm and glorious as the first gulp of freshly brewed coffee in the morning, of the freshness of the air that only existed in areas where beach was everywhere, of idyllic sandy shores (so long as the sand did not get anywhere near his person), of plants so green he could have sworn they were somehow digitally enhanced (they put the brightest emeralds to shame) and lastly, most importantly, he thought of familiar hazel eyes and that stupidly good looking, good natured face and that fucking _smile_ -

Home is where the heart is, and well, it seemed like his was right here in Hawaii.

Steve’s loud sloshing as he walked through the puddles snapped Danny out of his reverie, he quickly re-did the Velcro fastenings on his vest and grimaced when he caught sight of Steve’s wet combat boots. Steve had slipped on a cotton long sleeved shirt outside is usual v-neck shirt, and the familiar red toolbox was clutched securely in his right hand.  

‘Hold up, I am not letting you into the car until you put on one of these,’ Danny said in a no-nonsense voice as he seized the vest on the hood and handed it over to Steve.  

Steve stared at it for a few moments, before heaving a humungous put upon sigh and popping the boot up to put the toolbox in, before catching sight of the partially unzipped bag and the sliver of gold shining weakly from the boot light on Grace’s picture.

There were a few more moments where Steve just stood there, looking down at the thing, biting his bottom lip, before finally he flicked his gaze back up to Danny, who was regarding him impassively, anticipation zinging through his veins.

Anticipation of what, he had no idea.

‘I wouldn’t be a very good detective if I didn’t spot that,’ Danny joked, running a hand through his hair, grimacing at how sticky the Dax Wax was on his hand, and made a mental note to grab some other brand next time he was at the supermarket or chemist, wherever.

Steve looked like he had no intention of moving or saying anything for that matter, except for meekly kicking the gravel on the ground with his left foot, so Danny continued, ‘look, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t,’ he paused for a few steadying breaths as he collected his thoughts ‘I’m not mad, if that was what you’re worried about.’

Steve’s gaze snapped back up to Danny’s face, and for the first time (no wait, second actually) he found himself at a loss for words, here in the midst of things without a backup plan and no idea of what he was going to do, or say. All he knew was that he wasn’t angry at Steve, even though he had every right to be, because what kind of _partner_ (he was fully aware of the ambiguous nature of the term) takes the other’s sentimental possessions and just like that, makes an assumption that they’d be welcome to do such a thing. What kind of normal person would just assume that the other person would be willing to give everything they had cobbled together up without even bothering to discuss it first, in circumstances such as these? Steve knew that Grace was everything to Danny (it still pained him to think that he was going to miss spending time with her, the pain fresh and sharp and raw) and he was playing on Danny’s love for Grace to try and sneakily well, Danny really didn’t want to think about it because it was too close to everything that he had denied himself, had wanted and believed was impossible.

Right up until now.

And Steve, the self righteous fucker, who Danny by now was fully aware that he had a chip on his shoulder the size of the biggest coastal country (Australia, he thought it was) who had so many issues and layers to him that the process of uncovering and caring about the stupid blighter was like peeling layers off a, well, layered thing at the least.  Steve, the sad, sad man who couldn’t articulate very well, who was frankly shit scared to ask for anything he wanted when it _really_ counted (really, he hid it well under the bravado, Danny mused).

Steve, who was better at understanding Danny than anyone else and had perfected the art of making Danny simultaneously want to kiss him, and punch him. Who accepted Danny for all he was and everything he could be, and that meant a lot to him, it really did.

 _Steve._

Fate must really have a thing against him, for she chose right bloody damn now for the pin to drop, for Steve to seize that one photograph and uproot Danny to place him back in a position and heap all of this onto Danny, when the scabs were barely formed yet, when they were both tired and hurt, the healing process not even under way properly and scared, fucking scared, scared of pushing too far and going too fast and-

What the fuck.

‘I’m not saying no,’ Danny offered consolingly, his voice wavering slightly, buoyed by the unguarded glimmer of hope and, shit, happiness that shone back at him, clear and strong despite the darkness of the night, ‘come on Steve, let’s go and see if we can track down Hesse.’

Steve nodded solemnly, with the air of a man who had a hundred things he wanted to say, but didn’t quite know how to get the ball rolling, and since Danny had no desire to confront this new and fresh plethora of issues right the bloody fuck now, he merely slid on the tac-vest and hopped into the car.

The ride in the Camaro (Steve drove, which was a good sign that things were well on the way to being a-okay again) was rather silent, as each man was clearly lost in his own thoughts about what they were going to do next. Steve seemed to be thinking very deeply about something, almost missing the turnoff onto Pike which after a bit of fancy weaving and maneuvering would get them onto Wanokanaka in a few moments. Danny made a move to switch on the radio and soon the sound of the Saturday night DJ and Jennifer Lopez’s _On the Floor_ blared out at him, and he turned it off with a brisk snap after the fifth (or hundredth) _dance the night away leave your life and stay out on the floor_ , shaking his head.

Despite the overall wetness, people still were still out and about, with their significant other in tow as they took in activities together and had a great lark about it all. The trickle of people slowly dwindled, disappearing completely when they entered a residential area of Honolulu, where everything was so ordinary that you couldn’t help but notice the extraordinary length of the ordinary nature of the standard houses.   




After passing what seemed like countless neatly trimmed hedges and immaculately trimmed lawns and gardens, they finally reached number 95 which differed from all the other houses on this street because there was a large stone eagle flanking the letterbox. They got out of the car in tandem and approached the front steps, their footsteps clattering loudly against the pavement.

The front porch groaned as they went on top of it and rung the bell. From the window Danny caught sight of a small fair haired boy with green eyes through the curtain as he lifted it up, a guileless smile on his face as he laughed. Danny moved his hand so that the tips of his fingers ghosted over his gun, should the need arise.

A tall slightly plump woman answered the door, but didn’t open it fully, merely just easing enough open such that Danny could see that the chain was still up, and peered at them, suspicion clear in her large green eyes.

‘Right, what can I do for you’ she spoke with a thick Irish accent, so Danny guessed that this must be Caroline.

‘I am Detective Danny Williams and this is Steve McGarrett of Hawaii Five O,’ he flashed his badge at her, ‘we would like to ask you a few questions about Victor Hesse. Are you Caroline Hesse?’

‘Why yes I am. Well, better get this over and done with as soon as possible,’ she grumbled, finally unhooking the chain, opening the door wide enough and stepping aside so that they may come in, ‘I don’t want to miss tonight’s episode.’ They let her close the door and watched as she slid the chain back into place,  and followed her large frame as she ambled along the hallway  and led them to the living room, which was comfortable and warm, the smell of spices distant in the air.

‘Please sit down,’ making hand gestures, her eyes trained on them as they sat down collectively on the sofa, ‘would any of you like a drink?’

‘No, thank you ma’am,’ Danny said with a small smile.

‘No, but thank you kindly,’ Steve said with a charming smile.

‘I’m going to need one,’ Caroline said simply, ‘anything to do with Victor never bodes well. The stiffer the better,’ they watched as she walked into the kitchen, and they could hear the soft tinkering of glass and the sloshing of liquid before she came back out and settled on the chair opposite them, rearranging her grey skirt and sighed as she took a sip of the amber liquid in the tumbler.

‘I guess this means that you don’t get a lot of good news wherever Victor is concerned?’ Danny asked.

‘Never,’ she replied, ‘although anything to do with Johnny is a godsend.’

‘Johnny?’ Steve queried.

‘Yes, Victor’s little boy,’ Caroline placed the tumbler on the coffee table, ‘no gentlemen, I am sure that there are plenty of things you’d rather be doing right now, so why are you here?’

Danny thought for a few moments on how to approach this, he settled for the soft approach, ‘we have a few questions to ask him, do you know where he might be at the moment?’

‘Is he in any kind of trouble?’ worry laced her voice, and Danny could tell that whatever he said next was going to have a huge impact on what she was going to tell him.

He took a breath, ‘we’re not quite sure yet. That’s why we have speak to him, as soon as possible, please.’

She sighed and took a hefty slug of alcohol from her glass, before regarding him with wary eyes, her eyes trailing down to stop at their tac-vests, ‘I knew it was too good to be true, too good that he would just want to come to Oahu to visit me, to see some of his old friends.’

‘What do you mean?’ Steve asked.

‘I don’t know where he is right now, I’m not his nanny, you see. It’s not my place to tell him what to do, but I did hear him talking on the phone to someone about sugar cane.’

‘Sugar cane,’ Danny echoed, feeling a bit like all of his Christmases had come at once, his heart was racing and he could feel the beginnings of the stirrings of giddy excitement.

‘Yeah, from what he’s told me, he’s negotiating business deals with his associates, although I don’t understand why he has to conduct them here, of all places,’

‘Who have been to these business meetings with him? How often do they occur?’ Steve prompted.

‘They take place once every few weeks, there was one here a few days ago actually. And no, I didn’t get a chance to look at the men’s faces, because Victor would insist on drawing all the blinds closed and bathing everything in darkness. It makes Rodney barmy, that.’

‘Was there anything distinctive about the men, anything you can recall?’ asked Danny, trying desperately to keep the edge of excitement out of his voice. They were onto something big here, Danny could tell and now that he had seized onto this he wasn’t going to let go.

‘There were two other men,’ Caroline said after a few moments, ‘like I said I didn’t see their faces,’ Danny could see by now that she was clearly anxious and worried over her words, because she had fistfuls of her skirt bunched up in her hands and her expression was set to grim resignation, ‘one of them had an Asian accent, Chinese like, if that helps.’

Fuck, was this what Danny had been looking for, a tie between Wo Fat and Hesse? And could the third person be Hiro?

‘Ma’am, if possible, would you be willing to come to our offices to make a statement?’ Danny spoke quickly.

‘Aren’t you going to force me?’ She asked incredulously.

‘No, you do what you want to,’ Danny intoned with a soft smile, hoping like crazy that she was going to.

She considered this for a few moments, ‘alright, let me get my coat and see if there is anyone to look after Johnny.’

‘Sure, if it will make things easier for you, why don’t I call a fellow police officer to keep an eye out on little Johnny for you?’ Danny smiled, saccharine sweet, ‘we wouldn’t want him to be kept up all night, right?'

She smiled warmly at him, and it was now he noticed how tired she looked, ‘sure, that takes a hell of a load off my chest.’

Danny fished his phone out of his pocket, before dialing Kono’s number.

‘Hello,’ she answered wearily, ‘what is it now Danny?’ it sounded like Danny had just woke her up. In the background he could hear the rustle of sleep and the soft sounds of male snoring. Oh boy, this was going to get awkward very quickly very fast if Danny didn’t take action.

‘We may have had a break in the case we’ve been working on,’ he rushed out, hoping like hell that his face was not as red as it felt, ‘I need you to come over here and babysit a small child for me.’

‘Why can’t Steve do it?’ Kono whined, her voice still heavy with sleep.

‘He is tracking down a suspect with me at the moment,’ Danny bit out, ‘look, I know it’s Saturday night and it is tough but Chin won’t be able to do anything, I need you here. Don’t make me pull rank on you.’

‘You’re such an asshole Danny,’ she snapped, ‘but alright, let me get a pen and paper,’ after a few seconds of rummaging, ‘shoot.’

’95 Wanokanaka St, Honolulu. Be here in ten minutes, bring some coffee for yourself and some picture books for the kid,’ Danny said.

‘I may have to raid your apartment then, seeing as you are vastly more experienced in these things than I am,’ she deadpanned, voice sounding relatively close to normal.

‘You’re such a bitch Kono,’ Danny groused, ‘and I can see why you have no experience in these things.’

‘I love you too sweetheart,’ she made a wet kissing sound over the phone at him, and hung up.

Danny then dialed Chin’s home phone number, figuring that the guy must probably be dead to the world at the moment, and was really feeling terribly guilty at having to wake him up if the brackets of exhaustion framing Chin’s face were anything to go by. His call went straight to answering machine, where he left a message, and then called Chin’s mobile number.

It was picked up after 5 rings. Chin must be a heavy sleeper.

‘Hello Danny,’ Chin said sounding relatively normal, ‘whatever this is, you are going to owe me big time.’

‘I’m not asking you to move to Nebraska or anything!’ Danny started hotly, and figured that it was hell unfair to take his anger out on Chin, so he took a calming breath and started again, ‘look, I need you to run a trace on all mobile phones registered to Victor Hesse-’

‘Hesse?’ Danny could hear the bedsprings creak as Chin sat up, and his voice took on a professional tone, ‘what’s he got to do with anything?’

‘I can’t tell you right now,’ Danny offered as he saw Caroline walk through the doorway, her green gaze trying to bore a hole through Danny’s skull to see what would ooze out, ‘but I need you to come here and pick up a woman to take down to HPD to make a statement. Then run a triangulation to see if you can trace Hesse’s current location from any of his known cells. And lastly, see if you can find any form of cell phone activity in the general area from Kam Ho’s former address. Make the trace top priority and I need the findings as of five minutes ago.’

‘I may need Kono’s help on all of this,’ Chin stated simply.

‘She’s out of reach,’ Danny said flatly.

‘No she isn’t,’ Chin replied, and Danny could hear the smirk in his voice, ‘Kono! What’s Danny got you doing such that you can’t help me?’

It was an understatement to say that his eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he barely stopped himself from dropping his phone and forking out $400 for a piece of plastic as this revelation left him feeling short-winded.

Chin’s laughter resonated across the phone, ‘what was the address of the woman, boss? I’ll be out there as soon as I can.’

‘Get it from Kono, Chin,’ he said amongst renewed gales of laughter, and hung up, shaking his head.

Danny turned to face Caroline, who was looking rather amused at the moment, ‘Shortly, a police woman named Kono will come by to watch Johnny, and a policeman named Chin will be by to take you to our offices to get your sworn statement.’

Annoyance bloomed in Danny as he caught sight of the way she looked longingly at Steve, who was all cool, calm and collected at the moment. ‘So you won’t be taking me down to the station then,’ there was a definite note of regret in her voice, no doubt about it.

‘Unfortunately not, thank you for your help ma’am. You’ve done a lot for us,’ with a nod of his head, and Steve’s charming smile, they were out the door.

She waited for a few moments before she seized her handbag and pulled out a disposable cell phone, and dialing the first out of three numbers on the contacts list.

It was picked up in two rings, ‘yes?’ Wo Fat’s calm and confident voice floated across the line, ‘how did it go, Jessamy?’

‘It went better than expected,’ Jessamy replied, ‘they bought the claptrap about the meetings here, and they’ve arranged for Chin and Kono to drop by to take me to make a statement and to watch Johnny respectively. I imagine that they must be halfway back to Makapuu by now.’

‘Excellent,’ Wo Fat said, ‘now remember, under no circumstances are you to reveal that you are Jessamy O’Leary, is that understood?’

‘Yes, boss. And you make sure to keep the real Caroline Hesse and Johnny Hesse out of the way.’

A dark chuckle rumbled across the line, ‘don’t worry, I will.’

***

Danny didn’t bother with the niceties and merely patted Steve’s cargo pants pockets down (he quashed the urge to run his hands down the front part, which was off limits for the moment, period) with both hands until he found the keys to the Camaro and took them out, ignoring  Steve’s indignant protests.

They were halfway along the Lilo Highway before Steve spoke out, ‘okay Danno, you want to tell me what has you this cagey?’

‘Did you listen to Caroline’s words back there?’ Danny asked incredulously, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, ‘it was gold!’

‘I figured that much dear,’ Steve said softly, ‘but why are you so excited? And why will we be going back to the sugar cane field?’

‘I have a hunch,’ Danny replied as he veered the car onto the off-ramp, gravel crunching beneath the Camaro’s tyres.

‘You wouldn’t act like this if it was just a hunch,’ Steve reasoned, quite logically, ‘so spill.’

Danny sighed. ‘We may have found the tie-in we’ve been looking for, the one which ties Kam Ho, Hesse, Wo Fat and maybe even Hiro together. Shit this thing is bigger, way bigger than what I imagined it would be.’

‘Wait a minute Danno, isn’t this thing too perfect a wrap up? We’re not in a crime fiction novella.’

‘What do you mean?’ Danny turned his head to look at Steve, bewildered.

‘I mean,’ Steve sighed, it was killing him that he had to be the one to crush Danny’s optimism, and a part of himself hated himself for it, but it had to be done. Steve could sense that something was not right here, something was very off, ‘these guys are big players, they spend all this time and effort into not getting caught, and now, everything turns for them on the words of a civilian.’

‘This wouldn’t be the first time in the history of law enforcement that something like this has happened though. Remember Al Capone?’ Danny quizzed, and Steve could hear the annoyance tinged beyond Danny’s words.

‘Sure,’ Steve replied nonchalantly, ‘but it just seems like something is off, that’s all. I mean, this is the perfect lead-in, textbook, even.’

By now they finally reached the sugar cane fields at Makapuu and Danny eased the Camaro down the sloshy slope, praying that they did not get bogged down in the mud or anything like that. He switched off the headlights and rolled the engine down an embankment as he cut the engine, the clock on the dashboard just having ticked over to Sunday.

Danny took it as a good sign, an omen that things were going to be alright when they finally stopped under the large spread of a banyan tree, and could just make out the sight of Kam Ho’s former abode, all the windows dark.

The police radio flared to life, ‘Central to Danny Williams. Danny, come in, over,’ Chin’s voice filtered across the crackle of static.

Danny seized the receiver, ‘this is Williams, over.’

‘Status update is as follows: negative readout on any cell phones registered under Victor Hesse or Caroline Hesse, however, there is a weak signal from a disposable mobile phone emanating from the house next to Kam Ho’s property and I am driving Ms Hesse down to the office as we speak. Over.’

‘Copy that. And the house, is it the one on the northern side or the southern side?’

‘The southern side. Do you need backup?’

‘Not for now, when you get to the office, standby for further instructions. Over.’

‘Ten-four,’ Chin said finally, and the line went dead. Danny hooked the receiver back onto the dashboard and looked at Steve, who stared right back with steely determination.

‘You still have a choice,’ Danny said uncertainly, flicking his gaze to stare at the wet fields of sugar cane outside him, surrounding them, ‘you could er, stay in the car and radio for back up if you hear or see trouble.’

‘Danny,’ Steve began softly, before the slither of the seatbelt resounded way too loudly in the Camaro and Steve moved closer to him, seizing Danny’s worn and calloused hands between his, ‘I’m in this pretty deep now, do you think you’d need to ask me if I decided to pull out, to back off?’

It was on the tip of Danny’s tongue to say ‘no, you didn’t have a choice because your father was murdered after all,’ but the desire died in him when he caught sight of the tender smile and the softness behind Steve’s eyes, which made him realize that he could sometimes give Rachel a run for her money when it came to bitchiness.

‘We’re going to talk about this now?’ Danny gulped.

‘Yes, we will talk about it now,’ Steve confirmed. His gaze flickered down briefly to Danny’s hands before he returned it to Danny’s face, and said softly, ‘I know you saw my addition to your overnight bag this morning-’

‘-Yesterday morning,’ Danny corrected.

‘Whatever,’ Steve blew off, and waited, because the next few words had to come from Danny. And it looked like Steve had all the time in the world, but words failed Danny, so Steve prompted him gently, ‘we may be in deeper in this thing than we wanted to be.’

‘This thing of ours,’ Danny echoed pensively, trying to quash the quavering of his voice, ‘is there anything else which needs to be said about it, because we’ve pretty much cleared all the bases for a home run. Do I look like I’m running, or even trying to run away?’

Steve regarded him seriously for a few moments, ‘no, you do not,’ he admitted finally, though Danny’s inner alarm bells were ringing at the tone of uncertainty in Steve’s voice.

‘Let me get this straight and out in the open,’ Danny said after a few moments of contemplation before deciding fuck it, consequences be damned, ‘I am not going anywhere, I would rather be here, with you, than anywhere else. You’ve done the unimaginable thing and managed to teach an old dog new tricks, you’ve taught me that I can tolerate pineapple, that I’m not alone on these islands as I thought I was, if after all of this,’ he waved his hands in the air, not really sure of the point of all his gesturing (but it made him feel better), ‘you don’t see what I’ve been trying to show, you, fuck it, you must be the world’s largest emotional dropkick ever.’

‘I’m only human Danny,’ Steve started heatedly, ‘I’ve spent my life acting on guesses and half snippets of information rather than words, just this once, this fucking once, can you spell it out for me, and not leave me guessing, because,’ his voice acquired a tone of defeat to it, such that Danny acutely felt Steve’s pain, ‘because the possibility that I guessed wrong, that I have been wrong about you all this time, is too much for me to bear. Please, let tell me, once and for all, please.’

Danny took a huge breath and desperately wished he had a tumbler of scotch for Dutch courage as he looked Steve straight in the eye and uttered three little words which had caused him to get fucked over twice; first emotionally by Rachel, then once by the courts.

‘I love you.’

  


	22. Set Fire to the Rain - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're almost at the end now everyone, not much longer to go!

_I let it fall, my heart_

 _And as it fell, you rose to claim it_

 _It was dark and I was over_

 _Until you kissed my lips and you saved me_

 _My hands, they were strong, but my knees were far too weak_

 ___To stand in your arms without falling to your feet_

 _-Adele, ' **Set Fire to the Rain'**_

***

‘I love you.’

Danny’s words weighed heavily in the air, as the silence became almost deafening, and the hand clutching his loosely tightened, tightened to the point that pain flared up strong and sharp in his wrists, such that he could feel rather than hear the bones creak.

But it didn’t matter. He had done the one thing that he had promised himself he would not do, and that was to fall (madly) for another person. After the whole divorce saga with Rachel, which resembled something from _Days of Our Lives,_ Danny was quite happy to forgo the whole concept of romance, instead choosing to throw himself bodily into his work to distract himself from the huge empty gaping chasm in his life when Grace was not there.

But like most things (both good and bad) in his life, Steve just swept into his life, like he was some sort of tornado, a wonderful tempest of trouble and grief and generally _Steve-ishness,_ knocking Danny right off his feet such that he had been unable to help himself, or figure out how the fuck it all turned to _this,_ taking him completely unaware, out of the blue _._

He could hear the blood rush in his ears and his heart race at the speed of light, threatening to hammer right out of his chest. He felt oddly giddy about it all at the same time, too. In the darkness of the night (the moon was barely visible, it was like a canvas of inky black outside) Danny could see the planes of Steve’s face and the set of his jaw, but his eyes were unreadable, and it was this which drew the breath out of Danny’s lungs.

His mind was a screaming litany of _fuckfuckfuck_ before Steve was leaning over him, pressing his cheek against Danny’s, the rough feel of stubble a stark contrast to the overbearing warmth and comfort that was Steve, that was like coming home after a long and tiring day. Of their own accord, his arms snaked out independent of his will, coming to clutch handfuls of Steve’s shirt as he clung onto Steve like he was some sort of life preserver, pulling him closer as he rested his forehead against Steve’s shoulder.

Then they were kissing, warm passionate kisses tentatively full of love and affection, as if they had just discovered each other for the first time, all over again, stripped bare of everything ugly and dark and horrible, and Danny’s hands fisted themselves into the hair at the back of Steve’s neck as their bodies connected, and Steve leaned his long body to cover Danny and push him back up against the door of the Camaro. Danny tilted his head back and opened his mouth further, all the more to receive more of everything that Steve was offering, was giving him.

‘Thank you, Danno,’ Steve murmured, his breath hot against Danny’s lips, so close that with each word Danny could feel the soft brush of Steve’s lips against his, ‘I love you too. Just in case, well-’ they broke apart, and from underneath Steve Danny pushed him off, coming to rest in an upright position as he tried to collect his breath, and whatever remained of his dignity.

Danny was gazing at Steve assessingly, ‘you wouldn’t have said that if I hadn’t said it first, quid pro quo should definitely not apply to this’ he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

‘Some things just don’t need to be said,’ Steve replied breezily, his hands still wrapped loosely around Danny, ‘this is one of them. Besides, what kind of partners act the way we do around each other?’

Danny shrugged, ‘it’s not so uncommon for partners to go out for drinks and pizza after work, and an occasional day out together, its called friendship. And hello? Haven’t you heard of the concept of bromance? It’s the latest TV craze right now.’

‘We already act like a married couple,’ Steve finally revealed, his eyes glinting slightly in the darkness, ‘and you’re definitely the nagger in all of this. You turn nagging into an art form. Besides, bromance is just brotherly love, there’s no sex involved. I anticipate,’ he paused for a few moments to run a hand lazily from Danny’s collarbone down past a clothed nipple, smiling at the slight hitch in Danny’s breath as he trailed the finger, touch feather light, all the way down to Danny’s pectorals, ‘there’ll be a lot of this in the near future.’

‘The romance is dead,’ Danny said, trying for a straight face, but failing spectacularly, as he broke out into an all out grin, ‘you just called me a housewife. I can read between the lines you stupid sod, and its official, I’ve fallen for an idiot,’ he raised a hand to his head in an _oh the humanity_ sort of gesture.

The corners of Steve’s eyes crinkled in mirth, and he brought his hands to rest on top of Danny’s clothed chest, savouring the warmth pouring through the material and the steady drumming of Danny’s heart against his chest, his fingers splayed approximately where Danny’s heart would be.

Their eyes met.

‘I’m hurt,’ despite this, a smug smile was blooming on his face, ‘I bare my soul to you and you call me an idiot? Christ, way to really cut a guy, Danno.’

Steve had a look of mock-hurt on his face, to which Danny just rolled his eyes.

Affection laced his next sentence, ‘seriously, what am I going to do with you?’ Danny smiled, a hand brought up to cup the side of Steve’s face, running his fingers through the stubble, which was attractive in itself because it proved that Steve was real, and not some wax model of perfection.

Although, when Danny thought about it, he did come pretty damn close.

‘Whilst I’d love to stay here like this,’ Danny said after a few moments, ‘the quicker we get this over and done with, the quicker we can get the fuck out of here. And I bet that you’re really feeling the gear shift right now, aren’t you?’ Danny pointedly looked down to where it was digging determinedly against one of Steve’s left thigh.

Steve sighed, an inexplicably happy sound. He shook his head as he retracted back to the other side of the Camaro before opening the door, ‘all the pain I go through for you.’

‘It’s not enough babe,’ Danny replied, shaking his head as he popped open the boot and rummaged in a green bag before he handed a gun to Steve.

‘I’m assuming you know how to use a gun?’ Danny asked, peering critically at Steve as he pulled his own out of the holster before switching the safety off, holding it tightly it his right hand.

Steve flipped the standard issue Glock 22 over and over in his hands, ‘yes, I have used one before’ he said wryly, as he popped the chamber to check how many bullets were inside. Satisfied that all twelve chambers were full, he snapped it back and switched the safety off, the small click resounding loudly in the dark.

Together they ambled down the slope towards the forlorn little cottage that was so dilapidated that Danny was surprised that it was still standing. From beyond the curve of the hill they could see the silhouette of Kam Ho’s former house, the yellow crime scene tape frayed and waving lazily in the breeze. Barring the current circumstances, this seemed like a really peaceful (albeit isolated and lonely) place to live, what with the large expanse of water available at the ready for recreation, the endless fields of sugar cane and the vast open spaces, under the clear blue sky, the air fresh and cool from the breeze.

There was a long broken and chipped picket fence which separated the two properties; Kam’s side was neat and clean and orderly, whereas the other side was just wild, grass and weeds and whatever else having overgrown, with rubbish and debris littering the property at random intervals. Danny squinted and could see the small cottage in various states of disrepair, and he could see that there was no car, no footsteps; no sign of anyone being there on the property.

Danny took in the rest of the surroundings. Sugar cane stretched as far as the eye can see, and he thought that it was highly unlikely that the mobile phone signal would emanated from the depths of the plantation, that it was more likely that it came from inside the house. He looked over to Steve who looked like he was ready to bolt down the slope and go in all gung-ho, guns blazing and all of that, his body tensed and ready for action, but his eyes, they were waiting, calmly waiting for Danny’s orders.

Danny raised the hand not holding the gun and made a pincer like movement, wordlessly suggesting that he would approach from the front and Steve would approach from the back.

Steve nodded imperceptibly.

Their footsteps were muffled due to the wetness of the terrain, which hid the sound of crunching gravel and rock otherwise. They reached the bottom of the hill where the small cottage loomed ominously over them. Steve broke away from Danny as he silently went around the back of the house, and went up the steps of the back lanai, pressing himself fully against the wall as he slithered closer and closer to the back door, his gun trained in front of him, a look of laser focus evident in his eyes.

From the front Danny quietly looked for a way to climb onto the front porch without going up the wooden steps, which looked old enough to groan audibly under his weight (it had nothing to do with fatness, really) he considered hopping the side past the railing but whilst he would avoid the groaning of the steps, the loud thud as he landed on the worn wood would be a dead giveaway. From the depth of the house the smell of acrid tobacco smoke got stronger, and Danny could see that there was a haze of it from the inside.

Danny gradually eased himself up the steps, wincing as the wood creaked slightly under his weight (Steve must really be a ninja, he seemed so in his element here that Danny couldn’t help but wonder) and mirrored Steve, pressing himself against the cracked and peeling weatherboards as he moved along the front, crouching to move under the window as he approached the front door, which was a screen one at least and counting to three, he was going to kick it open.

One.

Two.

 _Three._

He reached over and threw the door open with a bang, where it resounded loudly. From the inside of the house he could hear the sounds of fighting and muffled footsteps of the scuffed wooden floorboards, as well as the soft sounds of grunting and harsh panting.

Danny was almost across the threshold of the front door when there was a rain of bullets, the discharge loud as fireworks in the otherwise silence, and he had to quickly jump out of the way. Unfortunately he was not quick enough and a bullet grazed his left bicep, the freshness and suddenness of the pain bringing tears to his eyes. He counted, and once all twelve rounds were discharged and he heard the clattering of metal on the floor, he stormed inside the house to find Steve and Hesse, fighting it out, old style. Danny could see that Steve had a vicious gash on his right cheek which shone crimson as he manhandled Hesse bodily, slamming him into a wall and proceeded to let a series of punches fly, to which Hesse merely blocked them with his fists and kicked out at Steve’s shins, until he was on the ground scrabbling to get up and Hesse aimed a kick somewhere at Steve’s navel, which sent him reeling and rolling on the dusty, dirty floor and there was the crunching of bone and Steve groaned, clutching am arm to his chest.

‘Freeze!’ Danny hollered, ‘Five O, stop that at once!’

Hesse snapped his head around so quickly that Danny was sure he had whiplash before charging at Danny, seizing the gun on the table and was halfway across the room when Danny aimed and fired, shooting at Hesse’s kneecaps such that the large Irishman fell to the floor with a soft grunt.

A wry smile split on his lips, Steve was right.

He did tend shoot people in the kneecaps.

He approached Hesse and kicked the gun out of his hands, before hauling the bugger’s sorry ass back onto the chair, where he extracted a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and promptly cuffed him to the metal beam of the chair, behind his back. Once he was satisfied that Hesse was not going anywhere, Danny walked over to Steve and gingerly surveyed the damage.

Steve looked absolutely battered. Blood pooled on the floor from his split lip as he pushed himself into a sitting position before groaning audibly, and Danny could see that his left forearm was twisted at a weird angle, clearly broken. He was panting harshly and even in the darkness Danny could see the telltale mottling of skin before bruises bloomed. The gun Danny had given him was probably the one which had been discharged, and would be no use to them now. He helped eased Steve into a standing position and Steve sat there, cradling his broken forearm as Danny started pacing around the small table, his gun trained squarely on Hesse’s chest.

He found the light switch and flicked it, the lights overhead buzzing to life. In person Hesse was as intimidating as he was bulky, his alert blue eyes trailing each and every one of Danny’s movements as a sneer loomed on his face.

‘Come on, let me go, this is police brutality, that’s what this is,’ Hesse spoke thickly, squirming clearly in his seat.

‘Oh give it up, Victor, you won’t be going anywhere soon,’ Danny snapped back harshly, coming to stand in front of Hesse, bracing his hands on the table, the gun pointed in a decidedly menacing way straight at Hesse in his arms, ‘I know you were so happy to see us, but you didn’t have to resort to all of this. Which indicates you have something to hide.’

‘I ain’t got nothing for you,’ Hesse said snidely, leering nastily at Danny, ‘there’s no law which says that police can ambush you while you’re sitting here minding your own business.’

‘Why were you sitting out here in the first place, waiting for something?’ Danny prompted.

‘Waiting for my date actually,’ Hesse answered right back, giving as good as he got. Steve actually knew an urge to punch the obnoxious fucker, to pummel the shit out of him and then maybe shoot him dead, the desire to do so getting stronger by the second, so much so that his fingers actually itched with it, but he resolved to staring at Hesse instead, because Danny was clearly in his element here, ‘she’s a real beautiful screamer, fuck she woke up the entire hotel once when I stuffed my-’

‘That’s enough,’ Danny cut across cleanly, his expression moulded into an intense one as he stared Hesse down, such that the man actually turned his head to the side to avoid Danny’s piercing blue gaze as he waited, ‘answer the question.’

Danny raised the gun level to Hesse’s temple, and noted with no small amount of joy the vein throbbing on Hesse’s forehead got all the more faster, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

‘I’m more useful to you alive then dead, put the gun down, officer.’

‘Stop trying to bullshit your way out of this,’ Danny snarled, his eyes alight with emotion, ‘we know you killed John McGarrett, we have forensic evidence to back this up. Now,’ he cocked the gun, with his finger resting on the trigger, the cool metal digging insistently into Hesse’s temple, ‘cooperate, or I will blow your brains out. Now, what the fuck are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?’

Hesse’s next words were cold, devoid of inflection, ‘this isn’t true cooperation, this is duress. You have a fucking gun pointed at my head, anything I say will be of no use to you, you won’t get past first instance. And like I said, I’m waiting for a date.’

A dark chuckle welled and bubbled out of Danny, ‘thank you, uh, for you interesting perspective, Hesse. Enlighten us, all the same. Now, let us decide what is good or not, I’m giving you free reign to shoot your mouth off here, so go,’ the barrel dug a little deeper into Hesse’s forehead, and his breathing got a whole lot more shallow when he felt Danny’s finger wrap more tightly around the trigger.

Sweat dotted Hesse’s brow as he began to vehemently deny everything, ‘I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, its not my fault if you can’t recognize planted evidence when you see it. I’m being set up here,’ he said finally, ‘I didn’t kill John McGarrett. That’s the truth.’

‘A single hair was found on the victim at time of death,’ Steve spoke up, his voice gravelly, but firm, ‘it was yours, you fucker.’ He made a movement to approach Hesse but Danny warned him off, glaring at him. Steve backed down.   

‘What do you mean you’re being set up?’ Danny questioned, the gun still trained on Hesse’s temple.

‘I didn’t kill John McGarrett,’ Hesse repeats, as if he had practiced saying this over and over in front of a mirror, ‘I may have done some bad things in my life, but I’ve left all that shit behind me, I’m a renewed man.’

‘Renewed man, eh? You’ve had your hands in so many killings and murders it’s a fucking miracle that you haven’t been caught yet.’

‘Back on the mainland, I did’ Hesse admitted, blatantly staring Danny in the eye and blue met blue, ‘but now, not so much. I’ve paid my debt to society, there is nothing more you can take from me, as I’m not willing to give anything else away. How much does a man have to pay before his fucking debt is settled?’

‘You never started paying off your debt, you fucker. We have evidence that you are tied to the Triads on these islands, that you have a long-standing relationship with Hiro Noshiyuri and Wo Fat. That you are the top enforcer for all of the gambling and prostitution rackets on the islands, for that, you’re going to end up in a cramped 4 by 4 cell until your dying days. Unless you _cooperate_.’

‘And there is that word again, _cooperate._ I’m doing everything I can to cooperate, you selfish storm trooper, I’m answering all your questions left, right and centre, and still you insist that I am the bad guy! So what if I know Mr Noshiyuri, I’m employed as the head bouncer for Club Envy - he’s my boss! What is it to you that I know him?’

‘What about Wo Fat?’ Danny asked, anger bristling inside of him, causing him to gnash his teeth, ‘how is it that you know him?’

Hesse directed a dirty glare at Danny, which rolled off him like water off a duck’s back, ‘who the fuck is Wo Fat?’

Out of the corner of his eye Danny could see Steve fumbling, sweat dotting his brow as he wrestled a small crinkled picture of Wo Fat out of his back pocket, before standing, swaying slightly on his feet as he approached Hesse and all but threw the picture down in front of him, pinning his stormy blue gaze onto Hesse, ‘that is Wo Fat,’ Steve spoke quietly using his good arm to slide the photograph further in front of Hesse, ‘do you know him?’

‘No, I don’t know him personally,’ Hesse replied after a few moments of silence, ‘but I have seen him around, he runs Nine Dragons over at Waialua, very posh club that.’

The tight grip on the gun against Hesse’s head loosened a bit, ‘where?’ Danny ‘What was the context in which you’ve seen him around?’

‘I’ve been to Nine Dragons before,’ Hesse stated simply.

‘Business or pleasure?’ Steve interjected, his voice grim.

‘Both,’ he replied, regarding Steve carefully, tensing away from the man who looked every inch that he wanted to commit ultra violence against his person, like he was seconds away from tearing into Hesse like a lion off an African Savannah, if the rigid set of his shoulders was anything to go by, his face set in stone.

Hesse could see the darkness lurking behind Steve’s blue eyes, and something inside him cowed as his mind reminded him that this was the man who Hiro and Wo Fat were playing right into their laps, like a fucking harp. He shivered at the thought.

You would have to be a complete dingbat not to recognize that Steve McGarrett was as dangerous as he was beautiful, and Hesse could recognize the hard set of those eyes, of eyes that had seen too many horrible things to count, been wizened far beyond his age as he played witness to all of the shit around them, and he recognized that Steve was a kindred spirit, in a way, because he himself had been involved in the execution murder of countless people, that doing that type of shit was going to destabilize you, as the boundary between victim and perpetrator was blurred, blurred to a point where they formed a perfect circle, indistinguishable against each other.

Steve McGarrett had no qualms about killing, and it was this which made him dangerous and unpredictable, not too mention fucking scary, as he was looming over Hesse now, imposing all 6 ft 2 of his height.

Hiro and Wo Fat had told him exactly what he needed to know, and no more, and Hesse was fine with that, really, but he had a suspicion that there was going to be no drop tonight.

And then it hit him.

He played right into this; it was his own entire fucking fault.

There definitely was going to be no drop-off tonight. He was cursing at himself for not recognizing that because Kam Ho was dead and the brother was holed up in custody the channels had dried up and there was no one at the head of the arrangement, which was as useful as a headless chicken at the moment. They deliberately sent him here to walk calmly into Steve and Danny’s arms, into a conviction as they dusted their hands of him.

And with his track record, who was going to believe him?

He made a decision then and there, if he was going to go down, he wasn’t going to go without a fight, and he swore that he was going to do his damned best to drag Hiro and Wo Fat down with him, kicking and screaming all the way to hell.

Maybe, with a whole lot of luck, they’d grant leniency on him and things will work out one way or the other.

‘All the king’s horses and all the king’s men, couldn’t put Victor Hesse together again,’ he echoed in a singsong voice cryptically, chuckling maudlinly.

Danny’s eyes narrowed into slits, ‘and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?’  He’d seen some people completely go off the deep end, cracking under the pressure and being reduced to a babbling, sniveling mess of tears and snot, but this was new. From what he could tell, Hesse was still with it enough and seemed relatively sane. Normal enough, given the current circumstances.

As if reading Danny’s thoughts, Hesse replied, ‘we’re all fools; blind men in a world where the one-eyed man is king.’

‘What are you talking about, Hesse?’ Steve challenged.

Tension ratcheted up in the small, dingy room as the three men were stuck in this tableau. Hesse took a few moments to compose his thoughts, his harsh breath oppressively loud in the otherwise silence, wondering where the fuck he was going to begin.

Danny turned to look at Steve sympathetically, holding up his left hand, ‘easy, Steve, easy.’ He then retrieved his phone from his pocket and activated the recording function, and tossed it on the table.

‘Before I start,’ Hesse began to preface, but caught Steve’s glare and desisted, ‘all I ask is for some leniency.’

‘Leniency,’ Danny echoed, ‘whoa, what gives? You go from flat out denial to this? What, you planning to play the entrapment card? It won’t work here, buddy. And leniency for what?’ he raised an eyebrow.

‘I can offer you solid evidence on what you’re looking for,’ Hesse said after a while, flicking his blue gaze to the floor, ‘I’m willing to tell you everything I know about Wo Fat and Mr Noshiyuri and myself.’ He took a deep breath and willed himself to look at Danny, who was searching his gaze for something, he wasn’t quite sure what exactly, but he seemed satisfied, nonetheless, and gave a small nod.

‘I can’t promise you fucking sunshine and rainbows Hesse,’ growled Danny, as if it went against every moral fibre of his being, ‘but I’m willing to speak to the DA about it, if what you have is valuable to us.’ The gun that had been next to his temple for the duration of their meeting was lowered, and Hesse breathed a little easier.

‘Of course it is,’ Hesse replied, ‘I’m not a fucking fence.’

Steve snorted, ‘but you’re also a lot of other things.’

‘Let’s start from the top,’ Danny began after a few moments pause, ‘what were you doing here tonight?’

‘I was sent here under Mr Noshiyuri’s orders to collect goods.’

‘What kind of goods?’ Danny queried, bracing his hands on the table.

‘He said that Kam had a new shipment of high-grade horse coming in from the plantations at Afghanistan through China. Fucking mother load over 150kg worth in over 20 girls and boys,’ Hesse unloaded without heat or inflection.

‘Okay, so you were to pick up the heroin, and what do you do with it next?’

‘I don’t know. Usually I don’t do this. He didn’t tell me, just told me to go here and wait. It was fucking stupid of me, because I should have realized that I was being set up and sent to my own death.’

‘No one is dying-’

‘What do you normally do then?’ Steve bit out, his eyes trained on every move Hesse made.

Blue eyes met hazel, ‘your friend here,’ flicking his eyes briefly to Danny, ‘said it right up front. I’m an enforcer, I get a contract and it is my job to make sure the contract is carried out to satisfaction.’

‘What kind of contracts?’ Danny asked.

‘Contracts to kill,’ Hesse replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

‘Was there a contract put out on my father?’ Steve asked in a quiet voice, his face pale and wan despite the bruising, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Hesse bit the inside of his mouth, fuck, how was he going to get out of this one? If he said yes, Steve was going to kill him, and if he said no, Steve would call him a fucking liar and then kill him. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Either way, it was either death or a life akin to death, locked behind bars, because he pretty much just owned up to the fact that he had killed dozens of innocent men, women and children, if the price was high enough.

He settled for the truth.

‘Yes,’ he ground out, looking anything but thrilled as it was dragged out of him, ‘there was a contract out on John McGarrett. I killed him.’

His eyes widened as Steve literally lost it there, springing forward to close the short distance between them, his good fist raised. Hesse reflexively dug his heels into the floorboards and used the leverage to push himself as far away as possible from Steve, he could hear the back of the chair bumping against the wall and his hands hit something hard and metallic, sending a dull shooting pain up his right arm.

But there was one small saving grace though; Danny had bodily stepped between them and was busy shoving and pushing Steve away, who by now was looking rather murderous, his face contorted into a mask of fury.

‘Damn it, Danny! Let the fuck go!’ he bellowed, ‘let me get my hands on that piece of shit over there, just-’

‘Steven!’ Danny screamed, his voice indignant, ‘stop this, before you do more damage to yourself,’ for emphasis he set his arm against Steve’s broken one, putting a little bit of pressure on where the ligament was most soft at the moment, his other hand cupping the fist that Steve’s fingers were balled into.

Betrayal flashed in Steve’s eyes as he ducked his head to the side, and took a step back, putting some distance between himself and Danny, hissing softly in pain as it radiated in spikes up from his forearm.

‘I’m sorry Steve,’ Danny mumbled, running the hand not holding his gun through his hair, ‘I can’t let you do this, let you reduce yourself to the mere level of a common criminal. I know you’re not one. Come on, let the police handle this, let me handle this.’

‘The police won’t be able to bring Dad back,’ and there it was, that sense of crushing defeat, such that Danny could feel it acutely, ‘you certainly won’t be able to. This, all of this,’ he waved one arm around, ‘will all be for naught, as he will never be coming back.’

‘Steve.’

Danny forced himself to meet Steve’s gaze, to meet the hurt and pain and anger and resentment he knew would be lurking amongst the betrayal. His heart was thudding painfully against his chest again and he could feel a lump forming in his throat, yet again, when he saw that Steve’s eyes were red-rimmed, his lips clamped into a firm line, his body fairly obviously thrumming with emotion.

A small laugh echoed in the house, and Steve and Danny turned around to see Hesse laughing, an indulgent smile on his lips.

‘There are a lot of things you don’t know about lover boy over there,’ Hesse mused out loud, a malevolent glint in his eyes, ‘don’t be so quick to come to those types of conclusions about him.’

Danny turned to glare at Hesse, ‘and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?’  

‘I’m sure you’ve read the forensic reports on the McGarrett murder, surely you must have seen that the bullet and gun were a mockup of the real serial killer’s modus operandi,’ Hesse supplied helpfully.

Steve went perfectly still for one moment as full realization struck him. Hesse knew that Steve was the serial killer, Hesse could implicate him, and his throat went dry, clicking as he swallowed and panic, fucking panic escalated with each passing second.

Steve’s eyes widened at everything that Hesse was going to say, the knowledge that Hesse had, that was going to utterly destroy him should Danny ever find out, the man having taken an oath to serve and protect the people of Hawaii by catching the serial killer.

By catching Steve.

It was going to be a huge shock (something bordering tsunami devastation levels, or may what happened when a tornado meets a volcano) when Danny found out, and fuck it, would this thing they had going survive?

After a few beats of silence Danny finally murmured, ‘you were the people who cut into Kam Ho’s body to find the bullet, so you could make an imprint of it and used it to kill John McGarrett.’

A smile curved on Hesse’s lips, ‘right on the money, soldier. I fucking wish I had some light to work with, it wouldn’t have been as messy, otherwise.’

He was completely not surprised with Danny’s next question.

‘But why John McGarrett?’

‘That I can’t tell you,’ Hesse stated simply, ‘I comply with the orders, I don’t issue them.’

‘You know who the serial killer is,’ Danny spoke aloud after a few more moments of contemplation, ‘you must know who the real serial killer is.’

Hesse’s eyes flitted across to Steve, whose heart was doing its very best attempt to leap out of his chest and Steve felt numb all over, cursing this horrific tableau which stretched on forever, where the mere seconds felt like hours, or maybe days, to Steve.

Steve desperately wished he could go back to the beginning of all of this, go back to the moment in time and take back the first bullet that he had ever shot from the Smith and Wesson, rip the bullets from the warm bodies of all of the people he had killed, so that they may emerge warm and alive and breathing, so that none of this was real, none of this was happening.

But then another part of him would not have done it any other way. Because if he had not killed all of those people, had not stolen their lives, played grim reaper with them, then he would not have been reassigned to Five O at the Governor’s personal request. There would have been no special taskforce created especially for him (it was just a way they showed that they loved him, really). There would have been no reunion with Chin Ho Kelly and he would have never gotten the chance to meet Kono, the cousin that he was sure Chin’s feelings for ran deeper than the Pacific Ocean. He would not have had to crowd a blonde haired man against a dingy, disgusting alleyway and he definitely would not have been given a shot of happiness, true happiness, no strings attached.

He would not have met Danny.

And that was a too horrible thought to bear.

He had made his bed, and now it was time to lie in it.

‘Nah, you’ve got to work for it,’ Hesse said gruffly, ‘I want a promise of leniency and guaranteed protection when I go to jail, solitary confinement and all that jazz. I refuse to say anything more until I have your guarantee for the record,’ his eyes flitted to the mobile phone on the table, which was recording all of this, ‘as of now, I’m pleading the Fifth.’

‘You want protection?’ Danny said thoughtfully, ‘that would mean that whoever you are working for is a big fish, and I’m prepared to say that it would probably be Hiro and Wo Fat. Alright, I give you my word that I will do the best I can to accommodate you,’ a part of him felt really sick for making a deal with such a wanton criminal, but it had to be done, if he was going to do his job.

Hesse shook his head, ‘not good enough, I want an iron clad guarantee.’

‘It’s not my decision to make!’ Danny roared, slamming his fist on the table, causing ashes and cigarette butts to scatter across the worn wood, ‘it’s entirely out of my fucking hands, fine, forget it. Steve, give me your phone,’ he made a give it to me motion with his hand, and Steve merely handed his iPhone over, ‘I’m calling Chin and asking for a police escort to haul this fucker’s sorry ass to jail right-’

‘Alright!’ Hesse yelled, his eyes widening to two saucers, ‘I’ll take what I can get. The boss has so many brothers on the down low that I won’t be able to rest peacefully in jail unless I’m in perfect solitary confinement.’

‘You have my word,’ Danny sighed, ‘now, tell me who the serial killer is. And what the fuck are you so afraid of?’

‘It’s really obvious when you think about it,’ Hesse said, apropos of nothing useful.

‘Care to share with the class?’ Danny barked out, more an order than anything.

Steve had moved to sit down on one of the chairs around the table, not sure whether this light headedness came from all the trauma his body had sustained within this short period of time, or from the fact that Danny was so close to the truth for Steve to be comfortable in anyway. His heart was racing at this stage and a fine sheen of sweat covered his forehead, the blood rushing in his ears.

‘The serial killer is someone you know, someone close to you, so close to your investigation that they would be able to keep a close eye on every one of your fucking actions, twist facts and findings to cover their tracks,’ Hesse said after a while.

Danny thought covertly for a few seconds, considering Hesse’s declarations along with everything that Wo Fat had told him that day at Nine Dragons and Steve’s forensic findings.

The serial killer was a man of height from 6 ft 1 to 6 ft 3. When he discharged the gun he discharged it to kill, not to maim or wound, but to kill in the most efficient way, requiring only one shot. Someone who had to have medical knowledge of the parts of the body to aim for to instantly kill.

Someone who had a very noble (it was the only word his mind would supply him) sense of right and wrong, only selecting the people who had escaped the criminal justice system, who had somehow slipped between the cracks and were allowed to roam the streets like wolves along herds of sheep. Someone who probably knew enough about the law to take it into his own hands, who knew how to fool even the best of the best forensic experts, someone who could pull the wool over Steve’s eyes.

Unless.

Oh shit. Danny completely went numb, and felt kind of hollow inside as his mind finally fit the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle together.

Unless it was Steve himself, pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes. He directed his gaze at Steve, who had gone a very unattractive shade of grey by this stage, the nasty gash on his cheek the only colour on his face as he sat there, staring down at his combat boots.

Steve was 6 ft 2. As a trained medical doctor he definitely had the required knowledge to know where to aim for instantaneous death. He had complete access to all of the HPD’s records as chief forensic specialist, his clearance was high enough to amend the records should the need arise, and no one would have bat an eyelash at seeing his name come up on the access records, the man having covered his own tracks too well by deleting all access history such that Chin was unable to trace his name anywhere.

And also, because he was so close to the investigation, he could twist his findings a little bit here and a little bit there, such that even when the findings were staring at them all in the face, they would be able to recognize it for its true value. And that was such a disturbing thought that Danny physically balked.

He remembered suddenly, the way that Steve had blown off the relevance of the handprint sample that they had collected from Boateng’s crushed throat, dismissing it by spinning a yarn about how gloves distort the true size of the hand.

Fuck, all this time, and he had been completely blind and fucking oblivious to it?

But then, he was pretty sure that Steve did not kill Kam Ho, because Steve had been there with Danny that night in his apartment after the man had brought him warm clothes to change into and beer and pizza, insinuating himself into Danny’s life as if it was the bee’s knees.

 _No_ , his mind playing Devil’s Advocate supplied, _he left your place afterwards, so it is very possible that he could have killed Kam Ho afterwards, it wasn’t as if he spent the night with you, or anything._

Steve’s eyes finally found his, and they held each other’s gaze, wondering what the fuck was going to happen now. The aura of discord was evident in the air, so thick and palpable that you could almost taste it.

Hesse’s features broke out into a predatory smile, ‘I see the moment of realization has dawned upon you.’

Everything that Hesse said raised more questions than answers, both about the case and the true nature of Steve’s relationship with Danny (fuck, just after he had told him loved him too) and Danny was stuck, unsure of what to make of any of this and what to do with Hesse. Caroline had all but confirmed that Hesse was a very big part of everything, but then the more Danny thought about it, as a sister she was willing to rat out her brother on the first instance rather than try to defend him, to protect him, and that triggered the internal alarm bells.

All that he was very certain of was that Steve was the serial killer he had been asked to catch, who he had been chasing with steely resolve, whom he had mistakenly pinned the blame for John McGarrett’s death on.

That was the only thing he was certain about.

Everything else was still up in the air.

The powers that be had drawn up this complex smoke screen. It was all a very elaborate ploy to confuse Danny, trick him so that he cannot make a concrete investigation out of all this information, which at the moment was about as useful as a chest full of smoke and mirrors. And he was very sad to admit that it was working. Sure, he knew a lot about everyone involved, but the fucking details were useless because he was no closer to a conviction than he was at the beginning of all of this.

‘Fuck,’ Hesse continued after a few beats of silence, ‘I could kill for a cigarette. Let me go, I need to light up.’

‘Not on your life,’ Danny muttered in way of reply, ‘we’re not going anywhere, anytime soon, until we sort some shit out.’

‘I don’t need to be here for this lover’s spat, take it to the bedroom guys, homo has never been my thing,’ Hesse retorted.

Danny actually knew an urge to hit him, then and there, but most importantly, he had some stuff that he had to talk to Steve about, because okay, Steve was a serial killer, it was shocking, and a part of him should be mortified that he had done the improbable thing and launched into the first serious thing since the break-up and divorce with Rachel with a _serial killer_ nonetheless (a part of him wanted to hyperventilate but it was fucking useless, really) and his mind was screaming at him for his stupidity.

His common sense was telling him to, get the fuck away from Steve as quickly as possible, to put some distance between them so that he may clear his thoughts and maybe find a way to end things, stop things before they get any worse.

They were already pretty bad, either way.

But his heart was another matter, it still pined for Steve and actually attempted to flip out of his chest when his mind delivered to him the next stage of his analysis as two simple questions, questions that he did not want to ask, would stave off for as long as possible from asking, but life was a bitch so it came to the fore front right the bloody fuck now.

 _Had Steve been playing him all this time?_

 _Had the confession in the car prior to this meant nothing?_

Danny’s eyes regarded Steve in the dull fluorescent lighting overhead, and Steve ducked his head, choosing to become very fascinated with the wooden floor paneling instead, shame and guilt roiling off him in waves.

Whatever Danny was about to say, that hovered on the tip of his tongue never made it out to the light of day as without warning, a rain of bullets fell over them, smashing and ricocheting on every surface in the house.

Danny barely had enough time to drop to the floor and cover his head, praying that Steve, the fucker, had enough common sense to do so too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to tell me what you thought (I don't bite) and if you liked it and want more, leave me a kudos :)


	23. Set Fire to the Rain - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I am very sorry for the veeeeeery long delay in getting this chapter out to you, and real life is being a pain in the behind so my updates will somewhat get slower :(
> 
> Happy reading!

_But I set fire to the rain_

 _Watched it pour as I touched your face_

 _Well, it burned while I cried_

 ___'Cause I heard it screaming out your name_

 

-Adele, **Set Fire to the Rain**

 

***

There were fragments of glass embedded in Danny’s arms as the gunfire ceased and he could hear the telltale thumping of footsteps on the worn wood loud enough to wake the dead outside as it groaned under the weight of what sounded like more than one man. Danny’s mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour in sync with his heart as he looked for a way out of this, any fucking plausible way that he could drag himself and Steve out of the line of fire, for they were clearly at the mercy of whoever was outside right the bloody fuck now.

Soon enough Danny was put out of his misery when the door was kicked clean off its hinges, landing in a heap just to the side of him, metal grill reverberating loudly as it sent dust plumes up in the air. Somewhere among the rain of bullets one had ricocheted and struck the lone light overhead, bathing everything inside in pitch black darkness but the high beam of car headlights (Danny was sure that there was more than one out there), illuminating everything outside in a fuzzy glow, blinding Danny in the process. He squinted against the light flooding in from the outside, which looked like it came from the high beam setting of car headlights, before he could see two pairs of combat boots in front of his face, and one steel capped one dug under the groove of his chest and kicked him roughly, so that he rolled over to the side and he couldn’t help the grunt of pain that sailed past his lips as he was kicked directly on top of some rather sharp shards of glass, ripping his shirt and driving the shards on his back deeper into his skin. His back felt hot and wet at the moment, and he would not have been surprised if there were sticky crimson welts full of blood there as everywhere stung.

The figure stepped over his body and Danny looked up to see the face of Wo Fat looming over him, a decidedly fuck you smile on his face as he totted a Beretta in his left hand and crouched down just off to Danny’s left side. Soon enough, the second figure Hiro settled down on Danny’s right and together they hauled him off the ground and onto his feet, before plopping him down onto the chair just opposite Hesse, who resembled a punctured beanbag at the moment. He was riddled with bullets, basically one big red mess. Danny’s stomach turned at the ample blood, bone and grey matter splattered on the walls and floor from the sheer volume of bullets and had dribbled down his front, and the obnoxious man hadn’t even had a chance to do anything, as his hands were uselessly cuffed behind his back.

Danny’s eyes trailed each and every one of their movements as dark shadows were cast across the debris littered floor as they trudged around the edge of the table and hauled Steve up by the armpits and ungracefully threw him into the chair next to Danny.

Danny was close enough to see that dirt had embedded itself into the nasty gash on Steve’s red cheek, the crimson infused with flecks of grey and black. He was the very essence of defeat and resignation and regret at the moment, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched as he just _breathed_.

Something caught in Danny’s chest, and made his breath hitch in response.

‘I’m sorry that we had to be so rough on you gentlemen’ Wo Fat intoned smugly, such that Danny actually knew an urge to hit the man, his face carefully arranged into a blasé expression, as if he was doing nothing more exciting than ushering guests into the dinner hall.

Hiro walked around Steve to stand next to Wo Fat, his face bland and unreadable as he held yet another Beretta in his hand pointed squarely at them. Danny noticed that he was deliberately avoiding looking at Hesse’s dead body, which itself was a brand new source of macabre disgustingness, yet another thing to add to this bizarre tableau. The air was still thick with the stench of gunpowder at this stage, where had all that firepower from earlier come from? From Danny’s memory Berettas were flashy but didn’t really offer much in terms of power, some sort of machine gun was needed for this level of damage.  

Shit, their chances of surviving this thing just dropped to borderline zero at best.

‘We would have listened, gentlemen,’ Danny’s voice was rough and pissed off sounding, but at the sound of it Steve snapped his eyes open to regard Danny, and Danny could see relief flood into the man’s features, ‘you didn’t have to resort to this.’

‘Oh, but we did,’ Wo Fat replied, breaking out into a sinister grin as he waved the gun lazily in his hand (Danny prayed that the safety was on), ‘there are some things in life which are extraordinary, completely unbelievable until you see them yourselves.’

‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ Danny spat out.

There was really obstinate psychotic glint in Wo Fat’s eyes, which if Danny could would have had him stepping several paces away, Danny had seen enough to see that the man was capable of doing whatever it took to get the job done, ‘let me show you.’

He went around the table over to where Steve sat and had reached out with his hand to place it on Steve’s body when Steve rebelled, using his good arm to make a mean right hook with connected with Wo Fat’s jaw, and there was a satisfying crunch of bone such that Danny smirked. However, the small victory was short lived as Wo Fat reeled back and with anger flashing in his eyes pistol whipped Steve, sending his off the chair onto the floor, where he landed with a groan on his bad arm, his face scrunched up in pain, his forehead slick with sweat.

The sadistic fucker then extended his steel capped boot and kicked Steve once for good measure, his kick sending Steve coughing and gasping for air.

‘Stop it!’ Danny hollered, unable to idly sit by and watch this, he made a movement to get up off the chair but Hiro merely cocked his gun up higher, such that it was level with Danny’s face.

‘Don’t make me, Williams’ Hiro warned, ‘I will do this if I have to.’

‘I do not take kindly to violence, especially misdirected violence against me,’ Wo Fat continued on nonchalantly as he fumbled around in Steve’s cargo pants before extracting the Smith and Wesson that lead Danny right to this point in time, the gun he had been searching for ever since becoming the Head of Five O, pausing to hold it up to the streams of light filtering in from outside as he examined it, turning it over and over in his gloved hands.

A wry smile graced his lips, ‘so this is the gun my men have affectionately named _Qiàn N_ _ǚ Yōu Hún_ ,’ he places the Beretta back in its hip holster before he spins open the barrel to reveal all six custom made steel and iron bullets in the chamber, ‘it’s definitely given more grief to me than any other I’ve come across so far. I will be sure to let it occupy a vaunted place in my collection.’

‘Hey,’ Danny growled, ‘that gun is part of a Five O investigation, I will charge you with obstruction of justice if you fucking take that gun.’

‘The Ethereal Spirit of A Beauty,’ Hiro murmured before he turned to look at Wo Fat, ‘I didn’t know your men were so corny. ’

‘It doesn’t matter what its called,’ Wo Fat replied, a leering sort of grin pushing his eyes into narrow slits, ‘as long as it now can’t be used against me.’

Throughout all of this, Danny had been subtly trying to shift in his seat, his movements causing his bum knee to scream bloody murder and each muscle and bone in his body to groan and creak (he was thirty-god-damn-too-old for any of this) while he gauged what Hiro and Wo Fat were doing. He was only able to identify one escape route; the most obvious one would be to charge right through Hiro and Wo Fat and come out the other side, as it was clear that they both weren’t taking this very seriously (talking about Asian movies what the hell).

There was no way that Danny was going to emerge unscathed on the other side, the result would most probably be that he would resemble their friend Hesse on the chair there, and Danny was enjoying his life so far too much to want to give it up, really.

But most importantly, he would leave Steve completely at the mercy of these two fuckers and that was something that his conscience would not let him do. He sneaked a glance at the brown haired figure sprawled inelegantly on the floor, his limbs all over the place, an expression of pain knitting its way along his brow as he took great shuddering breaths.

It was also then that Danny notice that a few inches away from Steve’s outspread hand was his phone, which had a nasty crack along the glass screen but the red light on the top hand corner was still alight, meaning that the phone was still working.

Meaning that it was still recording everything that was said, right up to now. Which meant that every Hesse had said was now on tape, that Danny had captured Wo Fat and Hiro’s voices on the phone which could then be used against them, later on, as evidence in a court of law.

He just prayed that he had enough battery life left.

‘Detective Williams,’ Wo Fat said firmly, snapping Danny out of his thoughts, ‘this gun has caused me such grievous inconvenience, as such I will be taking it as restitution. You cannot deny me this right.’

‘And what would that be?’ Danny questioned, raising an eyebrow as his heart raced and he put everything into the fine art of bullshit (or babbling, more like), ‘you run an exclusive club which rakes in the money you so just sit there in your expensive suit and shoot the fucking breeze. Face it, you’ve never worked a day in your entire fucking life, which is just disgraceful.’

‘Don’t speak with authority about things you have no idea about, Detective Williams,’ Wo Fat spoke coolly, but Danny could see the minute tightening of his jaw, the hint of annoyance in his voice.

‘Enlighten me,’ Danny growled, pouring heartfelt emotion into his voice, ‘you send people of to do your bidding, you stay safely ensconced in the shadows so that when the shit does hit the fan, you can lie low and let the others take the heat. Face it,’ he paused for dramatic effect, and said with a confidence he did not feel, ‘you are a fucking coward.’

‘ _Gē gē _,__ ’ Hiro began, but halted abruptly as Wo Fat held a hand up to silence him.

‘I have worked hard all my life to create something wonderful, and you may decry it all you like, but at the end of the day, it’s what I think that counts. Now, at least let us try to be civil to each other,’ Wo Fat said, staring at Danny as he tried to will the man into submission.

Danny merely scoffed, ‘your petulant glares and big words do not fucking scare me, if you want me to shut up, you’re going to have to make _me_ , any hope of cooperation flew out the fucking door when you pointed a fucking gun at me and my partner. Show me what you’ve got, motherfucker.’   

There are a few beats of silence as Danny and Wo Fat stare at each other, defiance shining bright in Danny’s blue eyes before a truly horrific smile appeared on Wo Fat’s face, ‘I see what you’re trying to do here Detective Williams,’ he even allows a small laugh to escape, ‘dì dì.’

‘Yes?’ Hiro looked expectantly at Wo Fat.

‘Check around room, make sure that there are no recording devices anywhere.’

‘Sure,’ Hiro lowered his gun as Wo Fat raised Steve’s Smith and Wesson aiming it squarely at Danny’s head, his eyes flashing maliciously. Danny willed himself to remain calm and indifferent even though he was cursing vehemently inside as Hiro lowered himself to the floor to look under the table, even going so far as to climb underneath the tattered tablecloth to search every nook and cranny for anything that may be used to record their dialogue. Danny lifted his gaze defiantly and stared at Wo Fat, whose lips pursed in response.

There was the scrape of wood on the floor as the table moved, the damn tablecloth ruffling, and Danny flinched as he felt the ghost of Hiro’s touch skim along his trouser leg and he was so close that Danny could tell he was fairly radiating heat, which was either a sign of being hot-blooded or hot-headed.

Danny’s heart lobbed painfully against his ribcage as he considered what was going to happen once they lost the phone, lost Hesse’s confession (of sorts) and the sole piece of evidence that tied everything, tied Wo Fat and Hiro and Hesse and every other fucking big criminal thing on the islands.

However, a smaller bolder part of him was sort of glad (if he squinted and looked sideways) because Hesse’s words and Danny’s realization about Steve’s extracurricular activities where no longer out in the open.

‘Nothing down here,’ Hiro said as he stood up, brushing the dust and soot off his black attire, which made him look like a ridiculous ninja assassin wannabe. He stepped over Steve’s unmoving form; the only sign that he was alive was the minute rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Danny noticed that the position of his good arm had changed slightly, for it was now resting loosely against his hip, against a cargo pant pocket, one with a suspiciously rectangular lump in it.

 _Steve._

Hiro scanned the room, ripping what was left of the curtains clean off their hooks as he peered around various enclaves and alcoves, running his fingers against the bullet-ridden walls. All Danny could think was that he was being very thorough about it.

When the fucker was finally certain that there was nothing there, he relented and stepped back, ‘there’s nothing here.’   

‘You were wrong then,’ Danny said without missing a beat, making sure his eyes were properly narrowed, and added for good measure ‘you paranoid fucker.’

Wo Fat’s eyes twinkled in the dull glow from outside as he spoke to Danny, ‘I’m afraid in my line of work, you have to take the necessary precautions,’ he sighed audibly, ‘no rest for the wicked I suppose.’

‘And what would that line of work be?’

‘None of your fucking business,’ Hiro snarled, bringing his gun up and pointing it at Danny squarely in the chest. The veins on his right arm (the arm clutching the gun) were large and prominent, and Danny could see that the flex of his finger as it was cocked right on the trigger, ready to pull at any moment’s notice.

Knowledge was loud and clear in Wo Fat’s eyes, ‘I suppose there is no harm against telling you now.’

‘ _Gē gē _,__ ’ Hiro started, ‘he’s a fucking cop, don’t say anything.’

‘I know that Detective Williams is a trustworthy man,’ Wo Fat said cryptically, but Danny knew, all the same what he was referring to, ‘I know that everything I am about to say will be kept in the strictest confidence, isn’t that right?’ he turned his narrow eyes onto Danny.

Fuck, Wo Fat had him between a rock and a hard place, and he knew it, and was playing Danny like a harp. Perhaps the thing that grated on Danny’s nerves the most was that he was letting himself be played, like Wo Fat was a fucking virtuoso.

He was pretty willing to bet Grace’s entire college fund (the fact that Rachel would undermine him by paying everything for Grace was a moot point, _moot_ ) that Wo Fat did not know about Danny’s phone which was resting against Steve’s leg at the moment, hopefully still recording despite the rain of bullets earlier and being dropped on the floor. Danny’s faith in technology had never been strong but he was willing to give it the benefit of the doubt in this case. What other choice did he have?

However, Wo Fat still had a trump card to play against the both of them, and it was a very effective one.

Wo Fat knew about Steve being a serial killer, had to know what he was doing – along with when and where and with whom to be able to stage something like this, so it was a natural flow on of logic to assume that Wo Fat knew about the relationship between Steve and Danny at the moment, knew every little detail, right down to the picture of Grace tucked in the overnight bag in the boot of the Camaro – that intrinsic level of detail. It was immensely scary if Danny was honest with himself, but the truly frightening thing was that Danny didn’t want Steve to go to jail. He knew that the guilt would absolutely crush him such that he would never be able to set foot in Hawaii again, could never look anywhere without seeing something which reminded him of Steve. The very real possibility that Steve was going to spend the rest of his life behind bars was unfathomable, a concept completely foreign to him.

Danny was torn; the analytical part of his mind was suggesting that he should take Steve into custody or else talk to the man into it after Wo Fat and Hiro were gone. But that could only happen if they were alive, and if Wo Fat was being generous and deciding to tell the everything, Danny had seen enough gangster movies to realize that there was indeed some factual substance behind the gun toting and the bravado (not to mention the really bad Italian accents) and the fact that they had a higher chance of ending up being feasted on by the sharks out in the Pacific Ocean than returning to the relative safety of the Five-O offices, to where Chin and Kono would probably be wondering where the fuck they were. The logical part of his mind was telling him to do the legally right thing and ensure Steve turned himself in, regardless of his own personal feelings on the subject.

But what the fuck did he think? Danny himself had no idea.

It was all one big mess at the moment.

‘I know that whatever I say to Detective Williams shall remain between us,’ Wo Fat emphasized again certainly, before fixing Danny with his intense gaze, ‘do I have your word on that?’

Danny was doing some very quick thinking; if he got Wo Fat to spill about everything and the phone in Steve’s pocket was in fact, still recording, then it was pretty much an outright confession and that was enough to get charges that would stick on his end. But then if he did that, Wo Fat would expose Steve as the serial killer plaguing Oahu, and it didn’t matter that the man was doing a community service, the fact was he had killed people, and no matter the context or the reason, that was still a crime punishable under the law. The club owner knew enough about Danny (wasn’t that an unnerving thought) to know that there was no way he would let Steve go to jail, no way in hell. In the end, the bureaucratic nature of the system would turn against him, and he was sure that Hiro, being Jameson’s direct opposition to the seat of Governor of Hawaii, would be able to pull all of the strings behind the scene to make sure that the charges pressed against Wo Fat never saw the light of day, and that there would be a complete media white wash.

Either way, Danny was sure that there was no way he was going to get Wo Fat to stay in jail. He had the word of Caroline Hesse, but then she didn’t know much of anything about her brother’s activities. His eyes flicked to the leather gloves he was wearing and the careful way the men were walking around all the shards of glass, making sure that nothing was disturbed. They would be extremely lucky to get even a hair or a piece of skin or a fucking thumbprint from all of this despite Bergman’s best efforts.

The likelihood of that happening sat at about nought, at the moment.

He simply did not have enough evidence to present a case against Wo Fat. Danny swallowed, his throat clicking as he tried to crush the intense sense of hopelessness that washed over him, at having his hands proverbially tied around his back like this by the very nature of the system that he had sworn to uphold.

“You have my word,” Danny said finally, after what seemed like an interminable silence. Hiro’s shoes squeaked on the floorboard as he walked around to where Steve was standing, and nudged the man with the toe of his boot, flipping him over. By his very nature he had always been pragmatic, at least this way, they have a chance of getting out of this alive, and then, someway, somehow, he would be able to form a case against Wo Fat.

He twisted his neck at the sound of Steve grunting in pain, the man’s breath coming out in shallow gasps as he was forced flat on his back, in the process his full body weight being placed on top of his injured arm. In the glow from the headlights outside, Danny could see the dark red patch staining the floor. From the look of things, Steve was very badly hurt and should be gotten to the hospital as soon as possible. Not to mention, he wasn’t sure that the phone battery could hold out for much longer.

With a lot of effort, he pulled himself up off the floor, doing his best to maintain an indifferent façade in front of both Wo Fat and Hiro despite the pain that was racking his body, especially his back, where each movement felt like it was causing the shards of glass embedded there to get deeper into his skin. He grabbed the table for support as he lifted himself onto the nearest chair. He broke out into a sweat, making the material in his shirt cling to his very sore and inflamed back. Danny took a few steady breaths before he raised his clear blue gaze levelly at Wo Fat. The man was not taking any chances though, for with one nod of his head, Danny soon felt the cool metal of Hiro’s gun digging into the side of his neck, a constant reminded or just how the scales were tilted away from his favour.

“Normally, I am a very private individual,” Wo Fat finally began, a note of sadistic amusement glinting in his hardened eyes as he regarded Danny, who couldn’t help the small hiss of pain that sailed past his lips as he made the mistake of sitting back in his chair, causing the glass to cut deeper into his back. “I prefer to propagate a harmonious existence in every way I can. I believe in karma, which is my with every chance I get, I try to contribute positively to everyone around me.”

“Don’t lie,” Danny spat viciously, “you are responsible a significant part of the drug trade on these islands. We now know that Wai Leung Ho was ferrying drugs in to you so that you can re-distribute them through _Nine Dragons_. So many lives have been lost because of the drugs, how many more deaths will you have on your soul before you-”

It didn’t matter what the type of gun was, or who it was, pistol whipping really hurt, and with the force that Hiro used, he was sent splaying to the floor again as his neck cracked as Hiro’s hand snapped across his cheek, echoing loudly in the otherwise sterling silence. Tension hung thick in the air as both sides carefully considered their words from then on.

“You don’t say things like that to _gē gē_ you selfish fucker,” Hiro hissed, “he has done more good for these islands than you pigs could ever hope to do, in a million years.”

“Fuck you,” Danny replied angrily as he grappled back onto the chair. He was tempted to give them both the finger but in the present circumstances it would be rather redundant.

Anger was indeed grating at his nerves, because at this stage, Wo Fat was too smart a man to directly implicated himself by saying outright things like “I did this” which would have made things much easier. Instead, the man had chosen to be deliberately obtuse, relying on meaningful gazes and delicate hand gestures, which they had no way of capturing on the recorder. From the sound of things so far, if anyone was going to listen to the recording (assuming that it was working, in the first place), they would be able to tell that Wo Fat was indeed talking about something criminal, but it was not enough to get them across the line of the evidentiary burden, the first step required to satisfy a case. Charges definitely needed some more solid, more concrete.

Danny was fully aware that Wo Fat would not crack under pressure, given his very cool and calm demeanor. He was going to try and get under the man’s skin, maybe provoke him into saying something which can then later be used against him. If he managed to get some solid evidence of Wo Fat, Hiro would tumble down just as easily.

All thought ceased as a new idea came into his head. Hiro was obviously more hot-tempered and likely to make mistakes (if the way Wo Fat had to constantly remind the man to stay calm and collected in front of them was anything to go by), therefore, it would be much easier to provoke a heated slip of tongue from Hiro, but nigh on impossible to do so from Wo Fat. All right, he was going to go after Hiro instead.

“I can do whatever I want to,” Danny retorted with a liberal helping of impudence, “and I can say whatever I want to, what are you, the Thought Police? You’re doing a very shitty job of it, just saying.”

Hiro visibly bristled with annoyance as the fingers clutching the gun tightened over the metal and his eyes narrowed into slits, “what the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Calm down,” Wo Fat spoke levelly, with just the barest hint of annoyance in his voice, “Detective Williams’ actions can be attributed to the pain he is in at the moment. I’m sure he is usually much more amiable, if the reports on the coconut wireless are to be believed.”

“Right,” Hiro sneered, “we have Mr. Congeniality right here.” From then on, the man stayed silent as he stepped onto the other side of Danny, keeping the gun trained levelly on the scratchy skin under the detective’s neck.

Danny swallowed and tried to calm down before continuing relentlessly, “doesn’t it get under your skin? I mean, being a candidate for the Governor’s position while at the same time being this pompous dickhead’s lap dog. Pussy whipped much there, partner?” He tried to sneer and give Hiro a look of pure disdain.

It worked somewhat, as he felt his head being yanked backward by his hair and the gun dug more insistently into his neck. His heart was racing a thousand miles an hour now on pure adrenaline; there was a very real chance that he could die today. He wasn’t necessarily making things easier for himself here by doing his damned best to piss off the man with the gun, but what other choice did he have?

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know about,” Hiro said dangerously, his eyes flashing, “things that you would never understand. Do you hear?”

Danny went for a dark chuckle, “how the fuck am I supposed to understand, when there is nothing to understand? You haven’t exactly been forthcoming or cooperative, in the least.”

Hiro had just opened his mouth to say something, but Wo Fat cut smoothly across, “you don’t need to understand, there is nothing at issue here. I advise you to watch your tongue Detective, for you are very close to hurting and offending our friend here,” he cast a meaningful look at Hiro, and Danny could feel the insistent dig of the gun barrel subside a little, the man’s fingers going lax. There was also a huge sigh on the Japanese man’s part, as well. He was clearly trying to reign in his temper.

“I’m not offending anyone,” Danny retorted, “I just want some answers.”

“You’re getting them, so shut up,” Hiro snapped.

“I can understand why Detective Williams here is on edge,” Wo Fat enunciated clearly, twirling the gun in his hand, “he is clearly in pain from the glass in his back. And his friend here,” he paused to cast a look down at Steve’s form on the floor, “is in desperate need of some medical attention. All that jostling of his broken appendages can’t be good for him. After we are done, we shall call an ambulance for the both of you, for you both really need it.”

Danny could only glare at the man in front of him, as he tore through Danny’s carefully thought out plans (not really, but at least he had a plan, and he was going to stick to that thought because it comforted him). So far, they had nothing on him, and it was very likely that the battery on the phone in Steve’s pocket would have died by now.

Damn the man to hell; he was one paranoid fucker, but in this case the paranoia was justified and had paid off. He had clearly seen through the rather simple (it was shameful, but desperate times called for desperate measures) plan Danny had to target Hiro’s temper and use that to his advantage and taken the necessary actions to stop it in it’s tracks. Not only that, he was being deliberately saccharine about it all, and that grated on Danny’s nerves more than he could ever admit. He blew out a breath hard through his nose as he tried to crush the sense of disappointment and defeat that had arisen, and maintain what was left of his façade of, well, keeping it together.

Wo Fat knew exactly the effect he was having on the detective, so he merely continued. Danny was surprised that none of his teeth were rotten, by this stage; it was all too sickly sweet, “I think that for the moment being, now is not the best time for revelations of any sort. You both must be tired and aching and desperately needing medical attention. We shall call an ambulance for you, once we are a long distance away from here.”

He took a few steps towards Danny before stopping just beyond reaching distance of Danny, his eyes strangely intense, “come on,” he said, and titled his head a Hiro in a ‘let’s get out of here’ sort of gesture. The insistent dig of the gun against Danny’s neck finally disappeared as the two men shuffled their way through the glass-strewn floor. They were almost out of the door when Danny spoke.

“Wo Fat! You gave me your word,” he growled, “you’re even more of a coward than I thought in the first place.”

Wo Fat paused for a few moments, before turning around to face Danny, his shadow looming large and distorted on the floor and against the bullet-ridden wall, “to win a war, you must sometimes lose a battle,” he replied cryptically, a hand braced against the door frame, before a truly awful smile broke out across his face.

There were a few beats of silence as the two men looked at each other, before the chair Danny was on creaked slightly as he made a movement towards Wo Fat and Hiro, but Hiro merely laughed and raised his gun levelly at Danny’s head.

“Not your brightest idea, trying to attack the people about to help you,” Hiro chimed, his features splitting into an evil smile. He then lowered his gun, and aimed it at Danny’s knee before firing once, the shot loud as a firecracker. The gun was still smoking when he slid it back into his hip holster, and the two men left, not looking back, as Danny crumpled to the floor, his bum knee screaming out in agony as he grabbed it and tried to stem the bleeding. The men walked out of the house before climbing back into their separate cars and driving off, bathing Danny and Steve in almost pitch-black darkness. He sat up, and gnashed his teeth as pain overwhelmed his senses and he found his eyes watering as he maintained his tight grip on the muscle. Somewhere from behind him, he heard the soft sounds of movement, of fabric slithering against the floor, shuffling sounds.

It was a few movements before there was the sound of footsteps, slow and languid, crunching on the glass, before he could feel a shirt being thrown down at him. The shirt smelt comforting, a mixture of salt and old wood that he knew too well, that he had come to cherish, somewhat.

Steve made a movement to sit down next to Danny, making sure that there was a gap between them. Even in the dark Danny could tell that the man was not looking at him. Sneaking a side-glance out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Steve was looking anywhere else but at him right now, and that caused irritation to bristle inside him.

There were a few beats of silence as they sat there, not quite sure of what to say to each other. There were too many thought and emotions bubbling too dangerously close to the surface. There was too much insecurity and doubt and fear, now was not the time for such things to come out into the open, to be discussed. Other than the sound of their breathing, there was almost perfect silence as they listened to the sounds of car tyres crunching against gravel, snapping against twigs and branches on the ground.

“Use that to stop the bleeding,” Steve said. Something about the detached tone of his voice really gnawed at something inside Danny, and he almost gnashed his teeth. Not quite there, but not far off from it either.

“Here,” Steve added.

In the darkness, there was the rustle of fabric and the soft sounds of a zipper being pulled down, before a red light was winking merrily at them. Danny held out his hand, and could feel the heavy weight of the metal of his cell phone being deposited back into his hand. He ran his fingers across it and flipped the slide lock off, and saw the vicious crack running across the screen, and how the LED display was almost shot.

Barring that though, the phone had been recording all of this time. A recording that was rather redundant because there was nothing on it of use to them. Wo Fat had been careful enough to speak cryptically in smoke and mirrors to avoid implicating himself or Hiro.

Quashing the torrent of thoughts about Steve and Wo Fat and everything else that was rising to the surface, threatening to break through his carefully maintained calm, Danny sighed as he turned the recording function off, and dialed the number for an ambulance for the both of them. He was starting to get dizzy from the bullet wound in his leg, as it was. 

Whatever that was going on between them would need to be discussed in time, because now was not the right time, nor the right place, and Danny was sure that if they did try to sort things out now, they would end up hurting each other, more than anything. He was too raw, and it was too soon.

 


End file.
